A KNIGHT AND A LADY. BT F. J. SEYBOLD. Copyrighted, 1880, by F. J. Seybold. Right of translation and all other rights reserved. Address, F. J. SEYBOLD, P. O. Box 3470, New York City, NY. 21 ^a <3 cSW A KNIGHT AO A LADY. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Kit Carson, guide, friend and companion of General John C. Fremont. John Corbin, a New York banker, with his daughter on a tour through the Sierra Nevadas. Helen Corbin, John Corbin's daughter, a beautiful girl of twenty-two Agnes Lkvannion, deserted wife of James Ransome. James Ransome, millionaire bankrupt, cattle king of the Sierras, and proprietor of a ranch, sixty miles square, bought with his deserted wife's money. Greatheart Hopeful, a man of large imagination, a geologist and a bonanza hunter. Sandeval, a Mexican ; the robber of the pines. % Michael O'Shaughnessy, Irish servant of John Corbin. Minister, played by Ransome. ACT I. [ [Scene : Headicaters of the Grand Caflon of the Colorado. Enter Mike, a little in advance of Helen and Corbin. Mike. And be the bloody pipers of Ballymaloch, I'm kilt entirely, musclila, musclila ; may the divil blow the day I ever left the ould sod — the land of milk and honey — the land where pertaties are as big as drums, and the chickens walk into the spit and cook themselves to your bidding* — to come to a bloody barren waste like this same, where the divil a crature do you see at all at all but the thaving spal peens of robbers, and they call 'em ' 'rood agents/' I'd a better ■ staid in the East and taken a position on the Erie Canawl, where me brother writes me he is conductor of forces, mules he calls 'em, and that he has taken unto himself a wife, a nice American lady, and she is a sa-cook on a canawl boat, and they call her a " nagar." Had it not been for me own valiant right arm and me darlint sprig of a shillalah — Mess the heart of the dear ould sthick, that I brought from the downs of Killarney ! — divil asowl of us would have been left to wander among the rocks forninst us. I'm thinking I kilt fifty or sixty of the gentlemen myself, besides them as was kilt by the long-haired divil we never saw after- wards. 2 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Corlin. Mike, we can go no farther ; Helen must be ex- hausted with fatigue, hunger and terror ; I myself am un- able to proceed further. Get some dry sticks if you can find them ; we will do without a fire no longer in this bitter cold and dismal place ; night is coming on, and better the Indians than death by cold. While you get wood and build a fire, I Avill look into the canon and see if there are any signs of game. Death by starvation stares us in the face. Mike. All right, I'll get some sthicks and have a fire in a jiffy. [Exit Corlin. Helen, my child, cheer up, we will have a fire and be warm at all hazards. If we can live till morning, we will descend to the bed of that canon, and may find some trail there that will lead us to some trapper's hut or miner's camp. Helen. Don't worry about me, dear father. My young and supple frame is better able to bear this terrible fatigue than your weakened constitution. We'll get warm and rest till morning, and I am sure all will be right to-morrow. Corbin. Sit down and rest, baby, I'll not be gone long. Good-bye, darling. [Kisses her. Exit. Helen, left alone, mechanically ascends a sloping rock that shuts out from her mew the grand mountain scenery that is all the time visible to the audience, and the magnificent view bursts upon her sight.] Helen. Oh glorious, glorious mountains ! how grand and great you are S How small and insignificant I am ! How you tower above the clouds to heaven's dome itself! how your grandeur lifts me out of self and calls my soul to worship ! how content I am to die beneath your heaven- towering peaks ! Oh God, I thank thee for this beautiful, glorious sight ! [Sits down on the rock, with her side to the audience, and gazes in admiration at the mountains, lost in meditation. Kit Carson appears high up the mountains, and wends his way down, unseen by Helen, till he touches her on the shoulder t lohen she springs to her feet.] Oh ! clear sir, how you frightened me ! You will not harm me ? Oh, I see you are the one who saved us from the " road agents," when we got lost in the darkness, and never saw you afterwards. Kit Carson. Harm you, dear lady ? Ask me not to harm the apple of my eye ! Yes, I followed the cussed .varmints till I wiped out all but a few of them, and then turned back to look for the passengers, and here I find one of them. Are you all alone ? How did you get here ? A KNIGHF AND A LADY. 3 Helen. No, not alone ; father and Mike are witli me. Father has gone to see if he can find some game, and Mike is hunting wood for a fire. I was lost in the beauty of the glorious mountains — the grand old majestic snow-capped peaks. [Mike appears in the bach-ground, with a load of sticks. See- ing Kit, he stops short, falls on Ids knees, lifts Ms hands in terror, and crosses himself ostentatiously .] Mike. Holy Virgin, pertect us ! It is a hingin ! Holy saints of Saint Catharine, save me this time, anddivil a drop of the crature will I ever touch again, and divil a lie will I ever tell again, and divil the sin will I ever commit any more, and divil the head more will I ever crack with me darlin' sprig. {Recognizes Kit as the man who fought the road agents ; changes expression.] May I hope never again to set eyes on the blessed pipers of Ballymaloch if it isn't his blessed self ! Heaven forfend his holy nibs, that helped me kill them divils of murdering rood agents. [Rises and advances towards Kit and Helen.] And may the holy and blessed pipers of Ballymaloch play your wedding-march, your honor, the jintl eman that helped me kill the murder- ing divils that attacked the stage. I thought yees were one of them rid ingins I hear 'em tell of, bad cess to 'em. I was jist drawing a bade on yer with my sprig, when I dis- covered me fault — jist in time to save yer blessed life. How I'd like to mate a hundred of the cowardly divils ; I'd scat- ter them like the wind with my sprig. [ Wamng his shil- lalah.] Kit. You'll meet them before you know it, if you go prowling around these parts very long. What Lave you got there? Dry wood? Now for a fire. [Strikes a flint, lights fire, and piles on wood.] Ah! that will warm and cheer. How much comfort a little spark can bring ! how much joy a little flame can kindle ! Helen. Yes, in the material world, that is true. In the world of mind and thought the truth is greater still. A little spark from the hard and obdurate flint falling on the tinder makes this cheering blaze. A little spark of kind- ness falling on a warm and tender heart creates the genial glow of friendship. Kit. And, lady, friendship often grows to love. But sometimes love precedes it. Helen. Yes, so a poet somewhere says. Mike. And sure it's true then. I know it from me own swate experience. I had it once mesilf in the ould country, town of Kildown, but she died. [ With a sigh] Ah ! musch- la, muschla. 4 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Enter Corbin. Seeing Kit he starts and raises his gun. Helen steps forward to the rescue. Helen. Father, don't shoot ! it is a friend, the one who saved us from the road agents. Mike. Hould ! liould ! It's the long-haired scout that helped me scatter them divils of rood 'gints. I made the same mistake myself, and was just drawing a bade on him with me sprig, when I discovered me error. Corbifi. So it is ! Welcome ! Gratitude ! We thank you as our deliverer. Kit. Don't mention it ; I fight them ar varmints on prin- ciple. Between them and me there exists 'an eternal war, which only the death of one side or the other can ever end. Corbin. I fear we have escaped the robbers only to die of hunger — nothing to eat for two days. Kit. I must consult my commissary department at once. [Takes animal from bag.] Shot this in the mountains ; we'll have supper in a twinkling. [Proceeds to skin animal and put it on the fire.'] This is not quail on toast, but it will taste as sweet in your present state of appetite. Mike. May the blessed and beautiful pipers of Bally- maloch play the saints' rist at your funeral — but you are a cherub ; may the holy saints of Killarney forfend the day that iver a hair of your head comes to harm, Corbin. Indeed, we owe you our very lives ; our gratitude will live with you forever. Helen. [Giving her hand] How can we ever express our overwhelming gratitude ? Kit. Don't mention it, lady. Try a piece of this game ; it will give you strength to get to Ransome's Ranch, down the canon a little further. Corbin. ' ' Ransome's Ranch ? " Why, there is where we we're going ! Kit. Well, we are within five miles of it. Corbin. Heaven be praised ! Mike. Bless the holy pipers of Baliymaloch ! Helen. You are indeed our deliverer in everything. Kit. Don't mention it ; eat and be happy. Excuse me, I'll look around and take our latitude and longitude. [Exit. Mike. Be the cabby's own, and is he an astronomer too — a gentleman of unlimited versatility? Corbin. No, he means he will simply take the lay of the country. We owe him much. Helen. [Her face lighted with a strange new light] Indeed we do, father. He is as noble and good as he is handsome. A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 5 Enter Ransome. Ransome. Hallo ! Who have we here ? Corbin, my old friend, Corbin ! as I live. Corbin. James Ransome, my old friend ! [Shake hands and salute heartily.'] This is my daughter Helen, my dear Ransome. [Ransome courteously welcomes Helen, shaking her hand, etc.] Most happy to see your sunny presence in our wild mountain land. I hope its novelty and romance will give you pleasure, till its grandeur makes you a pris- oner for life. Mike. [Aside] Be the powers, he's a beautiful talker sure, a gintleman and a scholar — and if report don't belie him, he has a small bit of a pertatie patch down the gaily some- where, Helen. I am sure it will, sir, I am entranced already, ut- terly, even at death's door, as we have been the last day or two. But I have felt it were glorious to die beneath the shadow of those glittering snow-capped domes. Ransome. How came you all here away from the trails and passes, wandering among these rocks and cliffs ? Corbin. We were attacked by robbers two days ago, our stage robbed, horses, driver, and all, so far as we know, killed, but us alone. In the darkness we escaped, or rather were lost sight of. Some of the passengers and a scout fought and pursued the robbers, and we never saw any of them afterward, but the scout, who unexpectedly appeared a short time ago, having followed our trail. He made us this fire and gave us this food, and has but just now stepped aside. [Enter Kit. Kit and Ransome recognize each other with surprise ; Ransome notices that Kit's eyes seek Helen and Helen's Kit, and a strange light in the face of each.] Kit. What ! Jim Ransome ! Ransome. What ! Kit Carson ! Corbin. So you know each other ? Kit. Yes, I know him. Ransome. Yes, and I want no further acquaintance. Corbin. [Surprised and agitated] Why, dear friend, he has done us an inestimable service — no less than given us our very lives. Ransome. That entitles him at least to your thanks, but you do not need him further now, as my ranch is but five miles from here. You can almost see it from this point. [Ransome and Corbin step away from the others. Kit. [Aside] I am not so sure they will not need me more than ever before. At any rate, I'll keep my eyes on the var- mint, and see that no harm comes to her. [Inclining his 6 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. head towards Helen. To Helen aloud'] You are feeling more comfortable now, are you not? Helen. Yes, thanks to your kindness. After all that may be said, food and fire are two great ingredients in human happiness. Mike. [To Kit] An' plaze your worship, and could I be consulting yourself about some matters of common interest to the entire community ? [Exeunt Mike and Kit. Helen strolls off in a different direction.] Corbin. Well, my old friend, how glad I am to see you, and to find ourselves safe and at our journey's end for a while. My heart has bled at the sufferings of my noble daughter Helen, who has proved herself many times a heroine. Man some. It makes my heart glad to welcome so beauti- ful a being to my country, her future home. Corbin. It tears my old heart-strings, dear Ransome, to share her thoughts and love with another, but, in the nature of things, it must come some day, and it is the duty of a good father, before he dies, to provide for his daughter a husband, whom he knows to be a gentleman and a man of wide culture — especially one who can place his wife in luxury and position, and so I bring you my own Helen, that I may see her settled happily for life before I am gathered to my fathers. Mansome. I cannot express my gratitude, my dear friend Corbin, but will try to prove it by being a good and noble husband to your daughter, and a careful, kind son to your- self. I'll try to live a gratitude I cannot express. But now we must proceed at once on our way to my home, and re- cuperate awhile on our glorious mountain air and generous healthful food, before our contemplated journey to that loveliest spot on earth, the " Garden of the Gods." Corbin. Kind and thoughtful sir, indeed, we thank you. Ah, here comes Helen. [Enter Helen.] May we be par- doned, my friend, while I consult apart a moment with my daughter? Mansome. Certainly, sir, certainly, as a matter of course. [Helen and father stroll away out of sight, talking. Man- some t aside] Damn that scout ! I must dispose of him. [Mike, at one side, visible to audience, but invisible to Man- some, overhears him.] How unfortunate that he turned up just now. My friend Sandeval must forever silence him. Sandeval is to meet me at Pueblo on my way to the Garden of the Gods, and then I'll contract for the disposal of tlie scout. Mike. [Aside] Well, may the cerulean blue of the starry hivens fall forninst me, if the murdering thafe isn't plot- A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 7 ting to murther somebody, and it's me friend, tlie long- haired scout, that assisted me to disperse the blackguard rood agents. May the holy pipers of Ballymaloch for fend him, and forever wither the crawling spalpeen forninst me.; Muschla ! muschla ! But be the holy and riverintial mem- ory of Saint Catharine, but I'll kape the agle eye of the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy on top of the treacher- ous divil, and may thim howlin' , divils of rood 'gints take the hindmost one of the two of us. Enter Kit. Kit. Night is coming on. It is time to seek a shelter, or prepare one here, for this lady and her white-haired father. Ransome. We are just starting for my ranch ; and we do not need the services or the advice of Kit Carson ! Kit. Possibly you may not. But I cannot say as much for the helpless ones in your power. They need the ser- vices of some strong arm, if they ever wish to step outside of these mountain passes again. Ransome. What do you mean ? Do you wish to insinuate — do you mean to insult me ? Kit. Call it insult if you will — I mean what I say. Ransome. Then you must eat your words, or back them with your life ! Kit. As you will. I always speak the truth, I never take it back. Ransome. Then prepare for a final settlement. It must come sooner or later, and better now than later. Kit. I have no preparation to make ; I do not want your life, nor wish to give you mine. Ransome. One or the other you must do. None but a coward can refuse. Throw for first shot. Kit. I will not throw. Human life, even of a knave, is too valuable to be bartered on a throw. Ransome. Here it is then. [Throtcs, and wins first shot.} My shot ! Kit. Remember, if you miss, my aim is death ! Ransome. Yes, but I'll not miss ! [Shoots and misses.] Mike. Whoopla ! But yees are safe, Mr. Carson. Kit. It is my turn now. Take your life! I would not stain my hands with the blood of so vile a wretch. [Show- ing a coin] Let that coin represent your life, and see how much it would be worth, even less than the denomination. on its face. Here, Mike, hold it up on the end of your sprig*. Mike. And divil the haper will I thin. Is it being kilt yees want me to be, sure ? And it's suicide Til not be com- 8 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. mitting ony day on mesilf at any rate. Let the other gintle- min liould it, sure. Kit. I'll set it up against this tree. [Sets it up and shoots a hole through it.] Enter Corbin and Helen, excited. Gorbin. What is this shooting ? Kit. Oh, only a little rifle practice, to keep our hand in. Just shooting at a coin. [Shows coin icith hole in it. Helen. Oh, I feared it were something terrible ! My heart stood still ; how greatly am I relieved. Corbin. Now we are ready to start to Mr. E an some's ranch. Mr. Carson, my daughter and myself would take great pleasure in having you accompany us. Helen. Assuredly so, Mr. [Blushes] Carson. No pleasure could be greater. [Kit blushes, Ransome scowls, and Mike gives a knowing, significant jerk of the head.] Mike. Be the sowl of the blessed pipers of Ballymaloch for you to come with us would bring more happiness to our hearts than was ever brought to the heart of a bye of Kil- larney by a bit of a scrimmage. Kit. Thanks for your kindness, but I will camp here- abouts for a while. Kit Carson is at home wherever canon winds or mountain towers. I'll turn in here among these cliffs and crags, and so good-bye to you. [^4s^] And I will not lose sight of Jim Ransome, or her. [Glancing towards Helen. Shakes hands all round, except with Ransome, and exit.] Mike. May the saints pertect yees. Ransome. [Aside] A good riddance for the present, but he will give me much trouble if not disposed of. [Aloud] I'll bring my horse up nearer, and we'll at once be off for my ranch. [Exeimt Ransome and Gorbin, Mike. [ Walking off and talking to himself] Be the howly mimory of Saint Theresa, but it's a foine man that same Carson is, but the other divil will be honored with the con- stant eye of his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaugh- nessy, and may his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaugh- nessy never set his delicate fut on the virgin soil of old Erin, in the county of Killarney, town of Killdown, if the gintleman of the ranch don't find hissilf found out. [Helen alone. Mike behind a rock on left, regarding her, Kit behind rock on right regarding her. Helen abstractedly looks in the direction her father and Ransome have gone, sighs, and turns, and faces the mountains.] Helen. What is this pain that gnaws my heart? this joy A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 9 that thrills and warms ? It cannot be love, for love is love, and love is happy, holy joy. Can it be true, as I once read, that in an intense nature love gives more pain than plea- sure? That it is only in light and shallow minds that it ripples, leaps and bubbles ; and appears in smiles, blushes, and brightness, and flashes cut sentiment and fancy, while in deep and fervent souls it goes to the very center, and calls the heart into itself — that it swells and throbs, and beats and pains, and if not allowed to go out to the object of its devotion, or if, going out, is repulsed, or not recipro- cated, it bursts and destroys ? Oh ! is this nature mine, and is this love that has taken possession of me, and does to lorn mean to suffer f Oh, that he were mine ! I would give my soul to this man, but I would want his in return. To give all without getting in return does not satisfy my longing. Does he love me? Does his soul go out to me? How fool- ish the question ! He has seen me but a few moments ; how could he know or love me in that time ? But I love him in this short time — yes, in a thousandth part of the time. The first moment I saw his majestic form at my side, my soul went out to him ; my heart bowed to him a captive. [ Takes a seat on a rock.] Oh, if I only could know his heart — his thoughts ! Oh, does he love me? [A pause.] But time alone can answer that question, as it does many others in life. I must wait till time shall prove it — must watch and wait, wait — ah, the strength needed to wait, the self-control, the patience required to do that hardest thing in life — wait. It is most difficult in common things. It requires super- human power in love. [Rises.] And if I wait, what then? And if he loves me, what then? Oh, the misery, the untold agony in store for me, for him, for father. Oh, father, why did you promise me to this man for his wife because he had broad lands, and cattle on a thousand hills ? It is a heart I want, not lands and herds. Oh, I can never, never marry this man. The other has no lands or wealth, and is a stran- ger ; father will reject him with scorn. Even if he had wealth and culture, father would never receive as his son a stranger. But he has my heart and love. Aye, he is my idol and my god ! [Enter, unseen by Helen, in the left foreground, Cokbin and Ran some, and overhear eagerly the follomng words of Helen. Mike and Kit also bend forward in hearing, mak- ing in all an intense tableau. Helen continues :] I have always tried to be a dutiful daughter ; father may command me to give up the one and marry the other; duty to my dear, kind old father may make me wait and watch, 10 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. and hope for the one, but cannot force me to marry the other. Father and filial duty may say whom I shall not marry, but whom I shall marry, none but my heart and my God shall say, never, never ! [All step forward, intently gazing on Helen. Tableau. Curtain.'] ACT II. Scene : Magnificently furnished parlor in a hotel in Pueblo, opening upon a veranda and looking out upon the moun- tains. Enter Mike, looking around. Mike. May my former bosom friends, the holy pipers of Bally maloch, never blow another svvate note on their tin horns, if his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shauglmessy, isn't glad to get out of the ravines (they calls 'em cannons) and hills (they calls 'em mountains), into a town withstrates and saloons, where yees can get a drop of the blissed cra- tyure. Ah, me darlint ! [ Takes a swig and smacks his lips.] Yees does me honest heart good ; many's the long days I've been sighing for yees ; come to me arms, me darlint. Yer breath's swater nor new-mown hay or moss roses. May the sowl of the gintleman as what invented yees forever rest in pace ful slumber. Had I had the inflooence of yeer svvate presence wid me on me late tower in the gulleys (they calls 'em valleys) of Colorado, I'd a depopulated the intire coun- thry of the rid divils of hingius they tells on, barrin' the divil the one of them did I ever see. The divils knew I was out with my sprig. Whoopla ! [Brandishes shillalah.] And her ladyship is most kilt intirely climin' over those gul- leys and ridges, pigmies though they be beside the grand scenery of ould Erin, county of Killarney, town of Kill- down. And now will yees inform me, yer honor, the honor- able Michael O'Shauglmessy, why it is we're trapsing out to the Garden of the Gods, as they calls it. And have they pra- ties and turnips there? Or what do they bees raisin' shoor? [Enter Mr. Greatheart Hopeful, dressed as a Yankee, who stares at Mike, and Mike at him. Mike continues :] The top of the morning to yer riverence, and is it traveling yees are ? Hopeful. [Deliberately and in a draioing tone.] Wal, yaas, the least bit, yew might remark. 'Bin looking round some in this vale of tears. This is rather a poorty place, isn't it? [Looking around deliberately at the nicely furnished A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 11 room, up at the ceiling, etc.] I calkilate you are the proprie- tor here? [Mike puts on a consequential air.] This is a right smartish place. Happy to know you, sir, happy to know you. Have you seen my specimens, sir? Struck it ri^h ! [Pours out a lot of rocks upon a table, from a, bag.] This spec'men from the " Rising Star," we calkilate (Skule- mister Hardstick of Linen's Gulch and myself), by a close' estimate will assay ten thousand dollars to the ton (and I was calkilated good at figures in old Connecticut). The vein is immense — forty feet between side walls, and no bot- tom found. No knowin' where it begins or ends ; it's a car- bonate. Carbonates are all the rage now, you know. This streak is silver thread. Mike. Is this goold ? [Putting Ms finger on a large yel- low spot.] Hopeful. No, that's sulphur. Mike. Sulphur, bedad, and where's the goold? Hopeful. Oh, tli at is not visible. Mike. Not visible, is it ? Hopeful. No, the gold is inside. It was calkilated by Skulemister Hardstick, at Linch's Gulch, that this rock would pan out ten thousand dollars to the ton. Let's calki- late now [Takes a large sheet of paper from his lag and figures on it with a large carpenter's pencil] how much the mine will run. Calkilate the mine is fifty, tons wide and two hundred tons deep, that would be ten thousand tons. And calkilate its length is two miles, say ten thousand tons long ; ten thousand times ten thousand tons is one hundred million tons, and as Skulemister Haidstick calki- lates ten thousand dollars to the ton, that will make ten thousand times one hundred million, which is one trillion, the value of the mire, the "Rising Star." That is a very modest calkilation : it will probably go much more. That's a right smart chance of a sum — enough to pay this nation's debt and have some left for pin money. How'd you like a half interest in it, eh, Mike? Is that your name, Mike? Mile. It is, zur — the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy, gintleman, late of Erin, county of Killarney, town of Kill- down. And it's meself that ud be obleeged to yeesforahalf interest in that same mine, sure. Hopeful. All right, Mike, you shall have half of it ! Enter Ransome. Bansome. Well, Mike, you are looking blooming after your cruel Indian wars are over. Let's see, how many In- dians did you kill, Mike? Mike. Divil the haper of thim. The divil a red nose of 12 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. thim puts in a head when the honorable Michael O'Shaugh- nessy, meself I mane, puts in a bit of a sprig into the arana ! Hopeful. [ Who lias been looking on, advances to Bansome, and says] Glad to know you, sir, glad to know you ; I've struck it rich, sir, I've struck it rich. Permit me to show you my specimens, sir, including some from the "Rising Star." [Empties them on table.'] This sulphide, sir, carries an immense per cent, of pure silver. This dull streak is thread silver, sir. This is sulphur ; the gold is inside. Per- mit me to make a slight computation. Vein, two hundred tons wide, three hundred deep, eighteen hundred long, total product, one hundred and eight million tons, assays, fifteen thousand dollars to the ton, which gives one trillion and six hundred and twenty billion of dollars as the value of the mine. A modest estimate ; it will probably turn out much more. Easily worked, sir ; mine very accessible. Gunni- son District, sir, Gunnison District. Four hundred miles from Pueblo. Two hundred foot shaft will reach it, sir. Road can be cut to mine at expense of not over seven hun- dred thousand. Incline only fifty-seven inches to the foot, sir. Beautiful scenery, sir, beautiful scenery, sir ; society, sir, society. — Ah, society will flow in, sir, will flow in. In ten years, sir, what is now accessible to only the most in- trepid and daring prospectors, armed with a pestle and mor- tar, will be a city with schools, churches, theaters, yes, theaters, sir, newspapers, dance-houses, saloons, divorce courts, and ail the modern accessories and improvements of the highest civilization and most cultured society. It will not cost over four or five hundred thousand dollars to put in machinery and open up the mine. A bonanza, sir, a bo- nanza for some enterprising eastern capitalist, Consider it, sir, consider it. Take a drink, sir ? Take a drink ? Enter Helen. Ransome. Not at present, sir. I'll consider it. [Exit Mike and Hopeful, Hopeful pointing out to Mike rich spots in a carbonate. ] Hopeful. [Going out.] Very rich, sir, very rich carbonate, silver threads, gold inside. [Helen starts on seeing the par- lor occupied, and is about to retire.] Ransome. Good morning, Miss Helen. Don't go. [Ad- vances, takes her hand and leads her to a seat.] May I not call you dear Helen ? You are dear to me, dearer than life. My life, hitherto a blank one, void of that holy emotion of love, now knows and feels that glad thrill for the first time. Helen, I love you, I love you. Will you not be my wife? A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 13 Helen. [Rising, startled] Oh, no, I never can. I do not love you ! Ransome. But you may learn to in association with me, who loves you better than my own life, and under the in- fluence of a love, a holy first love, that burns for you un- ceasingly, may not your gentle heart feel its power and turn to it in sweet response ? Helen. Oh, no ! I can never, never love you, I know I never can ! Ransome. I long to win your heart for myself alone. I do not want your hand, promised to me years ago by your father, without you can give your heart with it. ^ Helen. That I cannot do. It is not mine to give. It has gone from me, forever from me. Ransome. Oh, Helen ! what do you mean ? Do you love another ? Helen. I fear I do. Oh, my father ! My father ! Ransome. Helen, remember your father's white head, how it will be brought low in despair to the grave if you thwart the cherished wish of his life to make you my happy wife, before he quits this hard, hard world. He has only a few days, at best, to live, not years, and disobedience on your part would strike His death knell. Helen. I know it. Oh, unhappy lot ! Oh, why did I ever see him? Filial love and duty, and my dear, dear, kind, loving father's happiness, would make me your wife; would make me bind around my heart the rusty, clanging, hated chain ; would make me false to woman's longings and woman's hopes. But there stups in a new-born holy love that bids me hold — that Lids me halt at the brink of this precipice of woe. I cannot crush it down, its holy fire will ever burn. While that heavenly flame burns in my heart, and while he lives, I can never, never be your wife ! While my filial love remains, and my father lives, I will remain his true and loving daughter. [Helen starts to go. Enter Cokbin. Ransome. Ah, there comes your father. I leave you with him. [Helen sinks on sofa and covers her face with her hands. Ransome going out and remarking to Corbin :] Good morn- ing, Mr. Corbin, my dear father ! Helen is agitated ; soothe her, and — hasten on the happy day when our marriage will make our lives glorious. [Exit. Corbin. [Advancing to his daughter] My daughter, good morning ! Ah ! you weep ! Why do you weep, dear Helen? [Takes seat beside her, and takes her hand. Helen puts arms around his neck and sobs.] 14 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Helen. Oh, dear father, I love you, You have ever been good and noble to me, and I will repay your love by a life of devotion. I will never leave you, dear father. I will always be your true and loving Helen ! Corbin. I thank you, my proud and noble daughter. It tears my old heart-strings asunder to share you and your love with another. But I am doing for your best ; my white hairs and feeble limbs and almost palsied heart admonish me with sharp reminder, that I can live in this beautiful world but a very few weeks, at most. Nothing but the life- giving elixir of this glorious climate, this pure and healing mountain air, the soothing, balm-laden perfumes from those waving mountain pines, has kept me from to-day sleeping in the churchyard at home. But climate, and balmy air, and cheering sun cannot give life, they can only at best pro- long it, as they have mine ; but it is now fast ebbing to an end. -4$|gH Helen. Oh, father, dear noble father, do not say so; I can- not let you go. I wil] hold you here. Death is a thief — he shall not have you, he shall not have you ! \M SI Corbin. Dearest daughter, we all must die. I am pre- pared to go, with but one duty of my life unfulfilled. Be- fore I rest beneath the green sod, guarded only by the silent stars, I want to see you the honored and happy wife of my dear and noble friend Ransome, whose father and I betrothed you two when you were a little prattling babe. • Boys to- gether, and college friends, and business companions, till his death at sea — it was our manhood's dream to see you two one, to unite our families. Ransome has the noble mien and nature of hi* father. He will be to you a fond and noble husband. He has a princely wealth, and every longing of your heart is only to be named to be answered. Helen. Oh, no, dear father ; the heart has longings that no fabled wealth can satisfy. It has a thirst that no bound- less sea of gold can quench. The heart and wealth are not of kin. Oil and water will not mingle. Gold and love are strangers. But why give me to another, dear father ? why not keep me all yourself? Why not let me love only you, caress only you ? [Caresses Mm~\ Live for only you — till death do us part ? I ask no sweeter, happier, holier life. Corbin. My heart would have it so, dearest child, image of my idol wife, your mother, but prudence, duty, and fore- sight urge me on to crush uown my own sweet longings, and sacrifice my exclusive love to your future happiness, and joyous, loving, happy life, as the honored, idolized wife of my noble friend. Helen. But why not obey the language of our hearts, A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 15 dear father, and drink the glorious present joy, leaving the future to the future ? The heart is never mistaken ; it never deceives ; it never disappoints ; its language of love thrills and lights our lives forever, on forever. Let us never separate, father ; let me love and live for only you. Corbin. My own heart, darling, and your sweet affection, would make me forget my duty to my child. It must not be, darling. To love you is to desire your happiness. You have many years to live when I am gone. To make happi- ness exclusively ours during the few remaining days I have to live, might imperil your happiness for life. Oh no ! I cannot do it, my daughter ! Let your marriage take place on our return from our trip to the Garden of the Gods Order your trousseau and trappings now, so that they may be ready by our return. [Helen starts off weeping, but re- turns and throws her arms around her father 's neck, sobbing, and exclaims:] Helen. Oh, father, father ! I cannot, I cannot ! I can never marry Mr. Ransome. I had not thought to tell you, but I must, I must — I love another ! Corbin. Oh, Helen ! Helen ! Whom can my dear child love ? Whom does she know ? Helen. Dear father, I love the noble knight that saved us from the robbers, and that sav^d us from death in the moun- tains. He does not know my love, but I love — Kit Carson ! Corbin. The scout, Kit Carson ! Oh, Helen ! Helen ! Enter Kit Carson, who overhears Helen say she loves him. lableau. Kit. What ! Loves me ! the wild ranger of the hills ! Corbin. [Holding out his hand to Carson] Ah, Mr. Carson! how do you do ? This is a surprise ! [Helen hides her face in her father's breast, and holds out her hand to Carson, who takes it and touches it with his lips.] This is indeed unfor- tunate ! Helen is betrothed to Ransome, and is to be mar- ried on our return from the Garden of the Gods, to which place we start this afternoon. By chance yon overheard her declaration. But perhaps, Helen, you would better retire. [Helen retires from view of father and Kit, but remains in view of audience, watching and listening eagerly.] I am sure, Mr. Carson, you are too honorable a man and a gentleman to take advantage of it. Helen's position in life has been one of luxury and refined ease. Mr. Ransome's wealth, ad- ded to my own, will place before her a life of affluence, and all the goods and joys this world can afford. Did you love her, as she unfortunately seems to you, your lives could never be together, for had you lands and wealth, I could 16 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. never give her to a stranger. Mr. Ransome's father and I were boys together, and I know him to be to the blooded manor born. Kit. I am not to the blooded manor born. I have not lands or wealth. I am but a man, nfree and honest man. Had I all the wealth piled in these rocky hills, I could not ask your lovely daughter's hand ; she has the refined and gentle mind that only education can give. I am but a rough, un- tutored scout. She has trod the halls of learning ; I have climbed my native mountain peaks. You say, did I love her ? Do I love her ? Does a mother love her babe ? Does the Christian love Gfod ? When I stood on the crag by the canon and Saw her beautiful face, filled with purity and poetry, turned to heaven, my heart bounded out in rapture. Then did my soul revel in a glorious, holy joy ! [Helen leans forward and almost flies to him, but does not.} But be- hind this holy light came quick and close the dark cloud of despair. There opened up between us the impassable gulf of wealth, station, and education, that separates us forever. No, I could not be so base as to take your daughter, if of- fered to me by yourself. I could not so degrade her. I could not be so cruel as to bind this sweet and blooming beauty to an uncouth mountaineer like myself. No, Mr. Corbin, as an honest man and a gentleman, I'll be your friend, but never seek to be your son. Corbin. Most nobly said ; you command my respect and admiration, and would win my love. Had your lot been cast otherwise, you might have helped to guide the state, I shall always be happy to call you friend. Kit. A true and honest friend you'll find me, always. [Shake hands. Exit Corbin. Enter Hopeful, followed by Mike. Hopeful. [To Carson] Glad to know you, sir, glad to know you. Struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. Permit me to show [Recognizes Carson as an old friend, and pauses in surprise.] Why, good God ! old pard, how are you I It's Kit Carson, as I am a sinner ! Kit. Yes, it is Kit Carson. Mighty glad to see you, old fellow ! Mike. [To Hopeful] And, be the holy pipers of Bally- maloch, do you know me best friend, Mr. Carson, who as- sisted me to clane up a hundred or two of them murdering rood 'gints ? Hopeful. Know him ? What ! know Kit Carson ? Show me a man this side of the Missouri River that doesn't know him, and I will show you a tender foot. I have known Kit A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 17 Carson when Kit Carson was the only tiling that stood be- tween me and death ! I have known him to give his own rations to his comrades and march for days without food ! Know him ! Well, old pard, [Takes Kit's hand and shakes heartily] I guess I do know you ! Well, pard, I've struck it rich, down on Gunnison Fork, no mistake ! I've been giving these tenderfeet taffy, jast for fan, you know. But I've struck it, old pard! We'll divvy. Do you remember the mountains where the Indians went over the precipice ? Well, that's the place. On the southern slope of that snow- cap. Will you go over with me, old pard? Kit. No, old pard, no more mountain trails for me. I have but this hour formed a resolution that will govern the rest of my life. I shall go to college, and walk henceforth the intricate paths of book learning. My mind 's made up. Hopeful. What ! Kit go to college ? That's a good joke ! Kit. It's no joke. I'll do it. Hopeful. Well, if you do, you shall have half of my mine to do it with ! Mike. Whoopla ! I think his honor, the honorable Mi- chael O'Shaughnessy will go to college, too, when he gets out of these sage trees and rood gintlemen. But the stage has jist come in, gintlemen. I wonder if there is a letter for meself from the grane island in the sea. [Exeunt omnes. Enter, by another door, Agnes Levannion. Agnes. At last I have arrived in the West — at the end of the railroad. They tell me that his ranch lies three hun- dred miles from here — two hundred by stage and the rest by a trail through the mountain gorges. I'll set out to- morrow, to see it I can find my runaway husband and re- cover my stolen fortune. I am advised to procure the ser- vices of the renowned scout, Kit Carson, to guide me through these terrible mountain ranges. I'll ring, and make inqui- ries. [Takes hell from table to ring, when enters her husband, Ban- some ; drops bell to floor and sta?*es speechless at him for a moment, when both exclaim in same breath :] Both. What ! You here ! Agnes. So, at last, I have come face to face with the man who basely deserted me and stole my property ! Bansome. And so, at last, you have dared to beard the lion in his den ! Who do you suppose will believe your stories ? All proofs are destroyed. I shall deny I ever saw you! 18 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. t Agnes. Base villain ! I have the proofs here in these cop- ies you thought you had burned ! [Holds up papers ; he sees he is trapped ; turns white ; resolves to diplomatize. ] Ransome. [Aside] I must dissemble, diplomatize, and trap her ! [Aloud] Dearest Agnes, I was only trying you ! I love you still. I was but now on my way east, to restore all and try to again win your love. Oh, I have bitterly re- pented of all my great sin and wrong to you. [ Weeps] Can you not look on me with forgiveness ? Agnes. I could forgive, but I could never trust ! A heart once deceived can never fully trust again. My heart would both forgive and trust, but reason, judgment, caution, and experience, all tell me that to trust were but the action of a fool ! Ransome. I swear by all the sacred ties that ever bound us, by the love with which I first wooed you, by the holy, virgin, girlhood love you gave me, by all my hopes of hea- ven, by all my hopes of happiness here on earth, that I love you still as dearly, truly, fondly, as ever, and that I was on my way east to find you and on my prostrate knees beg your pity and forgiveness ! Agnes. [Deceived and touched] Oh, James ! if I could only trust you ! I love you yet. I feel the old love swelling now in my heart ! The face of my first love, and those eyes in tears bring back all the memories of our happy wedded life ! Oh, James ! James ! are you deceiving me, or do you love me yet? Ransome. As the great God who first brought our loving hearts together is my judge, I love you with as dear and holy a love as when I led you, a blushing, trusting bride, to the altar. [Holds out his arms. Agnes. Oh, James ! James ! [Falls into his arms, weeping. Ransome turns his head aside, and a sinister look crosses his face. He kisses and caresses her.] Ransome. How happy we will be again, darling ! How fortunate we met on our way to find each other ! Agnes. Oh, yes, indeed. Oh, what joy, when I expected misery ! Oh, James ! James ! will you always be true to me? Ransome. Yes, my darling. We'll go to my ranch and spend the summer months on the mountain slopes, while I settle my affairs, and as frosty autumn draws on, we will take our way east, and make there a winter home. Agnes. Oh, what happy days are in store for us yet, dear James. With you, and resting in your love, life would be A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 19 one grand symphony of joy. Earth would seem to r fade away and heaven be realized. Bansome. Yes, love, life would be one grand sunshiny day, unflecked by cloud or shadow. Are these oar marri- age certificate and title deeds, darling ? [Touching the,papers in her hand.] Agnes. Yes, these are the papers that proclaim us man and wife, and give me title to an estate of a million. Bansome. Let me see them, darling. [She holds out and he takes the papers. After examining them all carefully, he continues :] Yes, this paper makes you my wife, and this gives me your fortune ! This pocket is admirably adapted to keep them safely. [Holds open his coat and drops them into a capacious inside breast pocket. Agnes takes hold of them and says :] Agnes. Not now, James ! not now ! Bansome. Yes, now ! [Seizing hold of papers. Agnes. Oh, no ! Oh, no ! [Pulls them away. Bansome Give them to me ! I must have them! or I will not be responsible for my acts. Agnes, [firmly a,nd excitedly] Never ! Never ! Bansome. [In frenzy of rage and hate] Give them to me ! or I will murder you ! [Seizes her and takes them away and runs out. Agnes screams and falls on sofa. Kit Carson rushes in, sees Agnes ex- hausted and half swooning.] Kit. What's this ? A woman fainted ? Agnes. [Becovering] No, not fainted — exhausted, terri- fied, deceived ; oh ! horribly deceived and robbed, robbed. Kit. Robbed? How robbed? Who! What? Agnes. Robbed of my marriage certificate and my title deeds ! Kit. By whom ? Agnes. By James Ransome, my husband. Kit, By James Ransome, your husband ! What, James Ransome your husband? Agnes. Yes, be is my husband, whom I have searched for for years, and found him at last only to be by him basely deceived and robbed ! Ob, man, man ! base ignoble man ! Kit. How did it happen ? Tell me all. Agnes. Years ago 1 was married to James Levannion, now calling himself James Ransome. I possessed in my own right immense estates left me by my father. These gradually fell under the control of my husband, and finally he forged my signature, mortgaged the estate for an im- 20 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. mense sum, and fled. It was years before I heard from him, and never till to-day did I see him. The estate still rests under the incubus of these loans. I came to find him. Meeting him in this room, all my old love returned. It had never been dead, but sleeping. Instead of an accuser and avenger, I fell into his arms — a lover. He took advantage of my love and confidence, and tried to get me to give him the papers, which I held in my hand. A doubt arose and I refused. He took them by force and fled through that door ; and now my love is fled again and I know he is a villain. Kit. Rest easy, my dear madam. I know James Ransome well. He cannot escape us. And this is the honorable gen- tleman, noble friend, to the blooded manor born, that would marry my Helen, but make her no wife. Oh, Helen ! Helen ! you are saved ! A gleam of hope shines on my dark and dreary heart. [Rings bell violently. Enter Hopeful, excitedly. Hopeful. What, pard, what is it ? Kit. Old friend, will you stay with this lady while I bring to a settlement Ransome, the robber Ransome ? Hopeful. Ransome! What, a robber ? He's gone. He and the Corbin party left twenty minutes ago for the Garden of the Gods. Kit. We must overhaul them. Can you ride on horse- back, madam? Agnes. It is my favorite pastime. Kit. [To Hopeful] Order six horses to be ready immedi- ately, three saddled and three led. We'll catch them be- fore they are many miles down the canon. [ Exit Hopeful, hurriedly. Kit. Rest easy, madam, have no fear. We'll recover your property, and your worthless husband, and — save Helen — oh ! Helen ! Oh ! the happy hope that springs up in me ! The glorious new-born joy that fires and thrills my soul ! Oh ! love is a sun, a glorious sun, that shines eter- nal, on and on. Hopeful. [At door, shouts;'] Ready! [Tableau. Curtain. ACT III. Scene : Garden of the Gods. Enter Ransome. Ransome. This is grand, beautifully grand ! Those grand old mountains reaching their white peaks toward heaven, A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 21 bathed in white sunlight, symbolizing truth, purity, and all that is good and elevating in man, are enougli to make me abandon my dark deeds and lift my thoughts on high. But while my thoughts were raised to heaven, I myself would be sunk to hell. No, those happy, innocent days have fled. Oh, Agnes ! Agnes ! I love you still ; and you would yet forgive me. But, weak coward, what is this you are dreaming? I love you still, but I love gold and sweet Helen more. Away, pure thoughts ! away, good deeds ! I must have the old man carried off by Sandeval, the Mexican robber of the pines. And then fly with Helen, and force her to marry me on a promise to release and re- turn the old man. The others I'll let fate and the red devils take care of. What a brisk fire that hot-blooded Irish devil will make. But Sandeval. He should be here. Sandeval entering, says : Sandeval. And so he is. How can I serve my friend and partner, Signor ? Bansome. [Shaking hands'] Ha ! Glad to see you. The sight of your graceful form gives me pleasure. Sandeval. Thanks, gracious signor. Would you make the robber chieftain blush like a signorita? Ransome. Oh, no ; it is but the truth. And what is better still, I know that that sylph-like mould encases a frame of finest steel ; those soft and velvet fingers can crush and throttle. But gentle admiration when our terrible work is done ! Sandeval, I have in hand a fearful task. An old man and servant to be carried off, and guards to be taken too or killed ; to me will be left the task of taking care of the lovely daughter. The most divinely beautiful woman God ever gave to man ; fittest queen for this gloriously beauti- ful kingdom of the gods. [Waving toward the mountains.] Down in that shady nook on the Velvet Sward they rest from the toils of our journey. Sandeval. So I had already observed. Ransome. What! Have you seen them? Where, and how? Sandeval. From yonder castle cliff as I studied nature hereabouts with my glass. But who are the other parties on horseback coming up the canon? Ransome. What ! another party ! Then they must be either pursuers or a party of stray tourists. In either case, they must be captured too. Sandeval. That may involve hot work. If I mistake not, I recognized the mountain knight, Kit Carson. Ransome. Hell and furies ! then we have hot work ahead indeed. Who else? 22 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Sandeval. A woman and a man : a mountaineer. Ransome. Agnes and the bonanza hunter ! Get your forces well in hand and make the attack when opportunity arrives to seize all together. Leave none behind but Helen, the daughter of the white-haired old man. I will manage to be strolling to one side with her, and you can thus very easily ovei look us. Sandeval. I'll strike quick and hard when the time comes. I'll strike the blow, but will not be responsible for the damage. Bansome. Damn the damage ! I'll take care of that. Do the work, and ten thousand dollars gold are yours. I'll now join my party. I leave all in your hands. [Bait. Sandeval. Love and gold, the two gods that rule the world and strive ever for the mastery. Signor Ransome sacrifices all for love, I, all for gold. Love, bah ; it is only a name ; the thing dpes not exist ; it died when commerce gave birth to gold. For gold I'll capture and possibly kill these innocent people. For gold the husband forsakes the wife, and wife the husband. Their love, when sought for, is not. Gold is the mighty power that moves the world and to which all bow down. Enter Hopeful. Hopeful. Glad to know you, sir, glad to know you. Struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. Permit me to show you my specimens. {Emptying rocks from bag ; holds one up.] Sulphuret ! This dull lead streak you see here is silver, silver threads among the gold ; this yellow — oh ! that's on- ly sulphur, the gold is inside. Immensely rich, sir, im- mensely rich. Assays, thirty thousand dollars. Unlimited vein, unknown depth. A million and a half will open up and operate the mine. Gunnison District. Sandeval. Gunnison District ! Hopeful. Gunnison District, timber on the spot, vein of coal. In a few years, on the spot where now Sandeval [Sandeval starts'] rendezvouses his robbers, church-spires will glitter heavenward and school -children will play blind- man's bluff. Sandeval. Signor, older children play "bl in dman's buff" sometimes now in these regions. Who is this Sandeval of whom you speak ? Hopeful. He is called the " Mexican robber of the pines." I never had the pleasure of meeting him, and I might add with equal truth I don't care to meet him in these parts. He is said to be as handsome and polite as he is bold and blood-thirsty. A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 23 Sandeval. Quite romantic, to be sure. Does lie ever come into this region ? Hopeful. He lias never "been known to come so far east and north as this. He ranges near the Mexican border and raids into New Mexico. Arizona, and Southwestern Colo- rado. But seriously, stranger, if you are an Eastern capital- ist, as I judge you to be, will you not investigate my speci- mens and my mine? It is rich, sir, undoubtedly rich. If you will permit me to make a computation [Produces large sheet of paper and large carpenter's pencil] you will see the immense value of the bonanza I so lightly throw at your feet. According to Skulemister Hardstick of Linch's Gulch the ore from my poorest mine, the Rising Star, assays thir- ty thousand dollars to the ton, Eighty tons wide, equals two million four hundred thousand tons ; one hundred and fifty tons deep, as a modest calkilation — it is probably much deeper — equals three hundred and sixty millions ; and cal- kilate. say a mile and a half long — a modest calkilation, it is probably much longer — equals about thirty-five hundred tons long, which multiplied by the other dimensions, three hundred and sixty million, equals one trillion two hundred and sixty thousand millions as the value of the mine. A very modest calkilation. It is probably much more. Con- sider it, colonel, consider it. Sandeval. Signor, later I shall be pleased to do so. At present I have business with a party of gentlemen who have accompanied me to this grand, romantic spot I hope we shall meet very soon again. Adieu, Signor. [Doffs his hat gracefully. Exit. Enter Mike. Mike. And be the holy and riverintial pipers of Bally- maloch, and is it yourself? And how is the sulphurets, sure? And the Carbon atesf Hopeful. Rich, Mike ! Rich beyond calkilation ! My poor- est mine, the Rising Star, is likely to make me a bonanza king. A slight calkilation [Takes out very large paper and pencil] — permit me — shows the Rising Star to be two hun- dred tons wide, three hundred deep, four thousand long. A modest calkilation. It is probably much longer. The product of which is two hundred and forty millions of tons. It is calkilated by Skulemister Hardstick of Linch's Gulch that it will assay eighteen thousand dollars to the ton, which will give one hundred and ninety-two billion dollars as the value of the mine. A modest calkilation. It is probably much greater. Mike. And what will yees be doing wid all yer grate wilth, sure ? 24 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Hopeful. Mike, I'll endow an orpan asylum. Mike. And be the pipers of Bonny Doon I'll be the horphun ! Hopeful. You shall, Mike, you shall. Mike. But where did yez come from ? and where is the noble knight, Kit Carson? It's his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy that ud be giving worlds to see him. Hopeful. He is not far off. You'll see him soon ? Is Ran- some here ? Mike. He is jist beyant. It's himself and the lady and her father that's jist coming this way to ate a bit of a snack at this very place. Hopeful. I'll go. Don't tell them Kit or 1 are here. We want to surprise them. Mike. Whist, me darlint. I'll be as silent as a third termer. Divil a whisper will yees hear from me. [Exit Hope. Mike. And a foine man he is, and a rich one too, and a foine mathematician. If his sulphurets pan out according to his figures, it will take a train of cars to carry his goold. Faith, if I had a patchin' of it, I'd go back to the ould sod and be a landlord, and muschla, wouldn't I make the tin- ants tip their hats to his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy, the wilthy American gintleman that made a fortune in the mines of Colorado, the celebrated Rising Star. A small country this ; divil a thing to plaze the eye of a fastidious gintleman like mes If. It's so monotonous, I'm gething thin. If I could only see a few of the rid skin divils for a change. I think about forty or fifty of them would satisfy me thirst for gore. [Hears noise ; is frigldened.] Whistla, what's that ! Oh, it is only a squir- ril. I was just going to rush to the fray, thinking it was a lot of rid divils. Enter Corbin, Helen, Ransome, and Attendants, who proceed to spread lunch. Mike. And it's a foine collation we have indeed. [To Helen.'] Will you have some of the cowld fowl, mistress ? [All eat Helen. Thanks, Mike. Mike, have you seen any Indians yet? Mike. No, your ladyship. I am kilt intirely waiting for them. Deferred hope makes a sick heart. I fear I'll be taken down wid the mgway ; me appetites gone entirely. [Gnaws leg of mutton. Corbin* [Pointing to the mountains] How beautiful the A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 25 view ! How grand and majestic the mountains ! How quiet and serene all nature in this valley ! It does not seem pos- sible that this very spot Las been the scene of strife and bloodshed. Ransome. Yes, on this very spot, a year or two ago, the Indians attacked a party and left none to tell the tale. [Mike visibly alarmed and trembling.'] Sandeval, the great Mexican robber of the pines, has attacked rich touring parties here and carried off much plunder. Helen. Mike, what do you think of that? Mike. [Rallying] Ugh, and be the ancient pipers of Bal- lymaloch, I am a match for any forty of the cowardly spal- panes any day. It is his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy, that id be delighted to mate a regiment of thim same rid divils. Divil a mother's son of 'em wud he lave to tell the tale. Enter Kit, Hopeful and Agnes. Mike crouches behind Helen in affright, thinking they are Indians. Seeing who it is, he recovers himself and pretends to be looking for some- thing he has lost. Exclamations of surprise on part of all of Corbin party.] Kit. [Gives hand lo Corbin] Ah, my friend ! Glad to meet you in this glorious spot. Corbin. And we you too. Your face brings pleasure. Kit. [To Helen] It gives me pleasure to see you once more. Helen. I assure you most heartily it is warmly recipro- cated. Agnes. [Recognizes her husband standing a little aside, slightly screams and exclaims to Kit :] There's my husband! Kit. Yes, that is Ransome. Ransome. What vile conspiracy is this ? Kit. It is no conspiracy, sir. It is simply a wronged, de- serted wife who seeks to recover her stolen property from a base, deserting husband. Agnes. [To Ransome] Where are my marriage certificate and my title deeds ? [Corbin and daughter look on with hor- ror depicted in their countenances.] Ransome. I do not know you, base woman. Begone, vile thing ! Agnes. Oh, James ! James ! [Turning to Helen.] Fair lady, he was the husband of my youth. He stole the value of my lands and fled. I found him at Pueblo but three days ago. There he took from me by force my marriage certificate and my title deeds, a moment before falsely pro- fessing undying love for me. 26 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Bansome. Contemptible pretender, where are your proofs ? Kit. Here ! [Sticking his breast] and there [Pointing to Agnes' face] in that pure and honest face and in thos3 truth- ful eyes. Agnes. [Taking from her neck a locket.] Here, fair lady, is a locket with his picture and mine in our youth . In this case is inscribed in his own hand the words : "To my wife Agnes/' Helen. Dear madam, I know you speak the truth. It is written all over you in living lines. Gorbin. Oh, monstrous ! monstrous ! Is this the man to whom I betrothed my daughter, my beautiful, pure, and lovely Helen ? I would as soon have thought the heavens would fall. Oh, man ! man ! What an infinitely black, and devilish villain you are ! Bansome. Hold ! It is all a base and damnable fabrica-, tion to rob me of my bride and my fortune. Give me but time and I'll prove it a lie most damnable. Kit. Cease, cowardly monster ! The lie is written on your face, its contrary on her brow. [Pointing to Agnes.] Your own handwriting is on the locked containing your and her pictures. Where are the deeds and marriage certificate forced from her in the hotel at Pueblo? Scoundrel! dis- gorge, or your life 's the forfeit, and I the executioner. Bansome. Ha ! Pigmy scout, you are bold and bluster- ing. [Snaps pistol at his head and misses fire.] Ho there ! Sandeval ! [Mike crouching behind Helen; Sandeval, robbers and In- dians spring from cover, and after desperate struggle, in which Kit and Hopeful fell several Indians, seize and bind all but Bansome and Helen.] Mike. [Bound, to Indians :] Good Mr. Injuns, plase lave me go and I pledge you the sacred honor of the holy pipers of Bally maloch, I'll give you half of Hopeful's goolden car- bonates. The Rising Star is imminse. Hopeful. [Bound, to big Indian] Happy to know you, sir, happy to know you. Struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. Per- mit me to show you my specimens, including ore from the Rising Star. [Holds up bag to Indian, picks out rich ore and shows him, Indian examines it significantly and shoics it to other In- dian, meanwhile looking significantly at Hopeful.] Hapeful. Skulemister Hardstick calkilates after a careful assay that it will ran eighteen thousand dollars to the ton. Permit me to make a small calkilation of the Rising Star. A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 27 Indian, Wampum, ugh. Big wampum, pale face, big wampum. [Looks significantly at bag of ore. Make scene of this.'] Helen. [To Ransome] Oh, most loathsome fiend ! Despic- able reptile ! I next look to see you crawl like all your slimy, snakish kind. Release my friend. Release my fa- ther. Oh, father ! father ! Ransome. [To Kit] Most noble scout ! Proud mountain knight! Where now is your braggart boast? Those In- dian hienas will broil with keen delight the shapely form of this knightly executioner. And your feminine partner — co- conspirator — will have the pleasure of witnessing the beautiful blaze the mountain scout produces, before she be- comes the mistress of an Indian brave. Agnes. A million times over wculd I prefer to be the mis tress of an Indian brave, rather than the wife of such a hellish demon as yourself. Ransome. Glad to see you get your choice. Kit. Well, demon, the end is not yet. Time will pay off this debt and make us even. Right moves as surely and as steadily to her end as does the earth in her orbit. You have the upperhand now. Events move in cycles. Avenging jus- tice will protect the right and strike down the wrong. Your day will come. Justice may be long retarded, but triumphs in the end, [Taken off ; all disappear. Mike. [Screaming] Let me go, your liverence, let me go, your riverence. Helen. They're gone, they're gone. Oh, terrible fate ! But mine still worse ! Monster, strike that bowie to my heart. Oh, monster ! monster ! why do you let me live? Why torture me with life when ail I love is lost? Ransome. Dear, dear Helen, I love you. Helen. Monster ! Do not insult me with endearing terms. Ransome. For your sake I will save them all. Helen. Do it then ; do it. Ransome. First be my wife, my wedded lawful wife. Helen. Your nife ! Your wife ! Before I'd be your wife, I'd see those mountains melt and all the woild consumed with fire ! Ransome. But think of your friends ! your father and your lover ! Helen. The mighty God that made and rules us will care for them ; he will not let the innocent perish. His hand is mighty to protect, and he will save them and hurl his terri- ble retribution on your head. i Ransome. Not while Sandeval and the blood-thirsty In- 28 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. dians have them in charge. They will cut their living hearts out, burn then? at the stake, and while dancing around their burning bodies, pierce their quivering flesh with blaz- ing splinters. Helen. Oh, merciful God ! Oh, demon incarnate ! is there no help ? Ransome. Yes ; be my wife, and a trusty Indian brave crouching in that thicket will quickly bear my order to stop the hideous torture. Helen. Oh ! horrible, ignominious proposition ! Be your wife! Oh! loathsome, loathsome fate! To save my fa- ther and my lover I'd gladly sacrifice my life. Take it, monster, take it, and set them free — to save them I'd give my very soul — and — a million times more than all — my — woman's honor. Oh ! [ Weeps] my spotless honor ! [Re- covers] Yes, monster, villain, unutterably horrible, loath- some thing! I'll be your wife to save them. [.4*wZe] I'll save my friends and then I'll take my life with this untar- nished hand ! Ransome. Thanks, noble lady, thanks, you give me glor- ious joy. Helen. Quick, quick, send the messenger to their rescue and release. Ransome. Yes, to their rescue, but not release. Not till the holy man of God has pronounced us man and wife, has made us one, shall they be set free. I greatly prize your promise to be my wife, but can rule my conduct only by the accomplished fact. Let us hasten now to Denver, where the happy rite can be celebrated. Enter Kit. Kit. Not so fast. How would it do later ? Couldn't you possibly postpone your visit? I have a little business with you that needs immediate attention. I keep my promise : the hand of time often moves more rapidly than we count on. Justice sometimes moves as quickly as evil. The ac- count is now made up, the balance struck, and now we'll settle it. Ransome. That settles it. [Fires at Kit's head and mis- ses ; Helen shrieks.] Your life or mine is the only possible settlement of the business. [Rushes at Kit with knife ; Kit draws and they fight desperately with bowies ; Kit kills Ran- some.] Helen. [Cries] Saved! Oh, saved! [Throws herself on Kifs bosom.] Kit. At last ! My darling ! At last ! [ Tableau, Curtain. A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 29 ACT IV. Parlor in mansion of Greatheart Hopeful, New York City. Millionaire ; Alderman. Enter Hopeful, seats himself by table and opens letters. Hopeful. Ah ! here is a letter from the superintendent of the Rising Star. Wonder how the carbonates are by this time. [Beads. Gunnison, June 16, 1880. President Hopeful, Dear sir : — To-day we pierced the flint side wall on second level and have at last struck the carbonates. They are rich beyond any previous discovery in this country. We'll be able to give you an assay to-morrow or next day. Yours, truly, Linderman, Superintendent of Mine. Struck it rich. Egad, they're struck it rich. Glad to know it, sir, glad to know it. Permit me to Ah ! I am glad to know it ; well, those mines have been a bonanza, surely. The Rising Star has netted us two millions and the others about as much, and only fairly tapped, as you may say. Yes, we struck it rich. What a melange is life ! How short a step between poverty and riches, and riches and poverty ; between life and death ; one moment burning at the stake and the next rescued by Kit, and on our way to rescue old Corbin and party, whom we never found, locating the Ris- ing Star instead. I wonder what ever became of them ; murdered, or held in captivity? I don't think Sandeval would murder them, but only hold them till Ransom e should pay for their taking off ; but Ransome being killed, the game was blocked. Well, the future may reveal the past. [Takes up another letter. ,] Ah ! from Kit. Graduated with honors and will be here at twelve. Why, bless me, it is nearly that now ! [Rings bell. Enter Helen, disguised as servant. Katie, Kit Carson [Katie starts\ will be down from Yale at twelve. See that everything is ready to make him comfort- able. Dinner at four. Katie. Yes, sir, everything shall be in order as you de- sire. Hopeful. Look after this room first, and you may do it now, as I am going out for a little fresh air. [Exit. Katie. So my lover is coming. How can I meet him without betraying my disguise ? I wonder if he will have 30 A KNIGHT AND A LADY changed much since I saw him at Pueblo four years ago. Then he was handsome and noble looking. What changes those four years have wrought ! Kit a millionaire and a college graduate ! I, a servant in disguise in the house of his friend, Mr. Hopeful, that I might hear from him inci- dentally. Our position in life reversed. Wonder if father was killed or if he still lives ; I sometimes seem to know that he still lives and that I will some day see him. Well, Kit acted nobly and did all he could to save hi in. I wonder if I did not act foolishly to run away and hide myseif all these years, simply because my father's loss made me a pauper. Well, so it is ; whatever is to be, will be ; and as Pope says, whatever is, is right. But I must put this room in order ; Mr. Hopeful will be back soon. How kind and good he has been to me. I wonder that he has never pene- trated my disguise. What ! if Kit should know me ! But he won't ; I must not let my thoughts betray me. I must force Love dear Love, back from his promenade,my face,and lock and bolt him out of sight. How hard and cruel it is to crush down the noblest, purest emotion of the soul, the holiest feeling of which the human heart is capable. So- ciety ! Society ! Oh, the heinous crimes for which you have to answer ! [Sees Kit's letter on table and kisses it.) This is his letter. How the very sight and touch of it thrills me. How mighty and how sweet is love, that all pervading power ; that touches alike the heart of the king and the peas- ant. Why should we ever love if our longing, aching hearts are never to be satisfied. Oh, Kit ! Kit ! why did I ever know you ? It has brought me only pain, pain, pain ! But after all one little spark of true, glorious love balances all the pain that life can hold. [Muses.] I wonder if Mr. Hope- ful has ever been in love ; yes, I guess so ; few men arrive at his age without at some time having felt the magic tender thrill. What a beauiif til home he has ! How nice it is to be rich with every luxury at one's command. Ah ! how lit- tle do the rich know how much the poor have to endure. But Mr. Hopeful does, for when I knew him first he was ragged at the knees, and seemed pinched and thin from hunger. One cannot realize the miseries of poverty till he is poor himself. I wonder if I will ever be rich again and have a home of my own? Ah! "Home, sweet Home." '[Seats herself at piano and plays and sings "Home, sweet Rome;" if encored, plays "Rome Contentment Waltz." Hopeful appears at door and overhears her, unseen by her.] Hopeful [To himself aside] So my lady Helen ! At last I A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 31 am sure of your identity. Well, glad to know you, miss, glad to know you. You've struck it rich, struck it rich. Permit me Ah ! Well, I'll keep dark and give you a pleasant surprise, you sweet, glorious woman. [Coining for- ward.] Well, Katie, you are about done here, are you? Katie. Yes, sir, done. [Starts out.] Everything in good order. Hopeful. Katie, do you play ? I thought I heard music. Katie. Oh, no ! sir. I don't play. Hopeful. But I am sure I heard the piano. Katie. Oh, sir, I was just fumbling over the keys to see how it would sound. I am fond of music, sir. Hopeful. A good taste, Katie. Some one says, that a man who does not love music is fit for war, conspiracy, and stratagem. But, Katie, I believe you can play. Katie. Oh, no ! sir. Hopeful. Here is a piece of music I just bought. It is called the " Origin of the Harp." Did you ever hear it? Katie. Yes, sir. I learned that once, but have not played or heard it for years. It used to be a favorite of mine. Hopeful. Well, play and sing it now, Katie. Katie. I'll try it, sir, if you insist. [Plays and sings " Origin of the Harp ;" encored, plays the " Marseilles."] Hopeful. Why, you play and sing like a born lady. You must have occupied a better position in life some time, Katie. Katie. Oh, I picked it up here and there. I am fond of music. But I must go, sir. [Fmt. Hopeful. Divine Helen, were it not for that rascally Kit, Td propose to her myself. But your love days are over, Hopeful, old boy. A mild and gentle philosophy must smooth your declining years, must straighten out the wrinkles that disappointed love and pain have caused ; and when you have acquired fully that greatest human attain- ment, you will have struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. [Bell rings outside.] Ha ! wonder if that is Kit. Yes, it is! I hear his voice. [Meets Kit at door.] Ha ! my dear old boy, how are you ? Kit. Glorious ! Never better ! Health, wealth, educa- tion, spirits, friends, and you, dear, dear old pard ! noblest, best of all ! Everything, everything to make a man happy. Hopeful. Everything, everything. Kit. Everything but one, and for that one, poor fickle man would sacrifice all the others. Without love all the rest are lead, dull lead. With my lost glorious Helen pov- erty were wealth, hunger and want were satiety. Oh, Helen ! Helen ! what was your fate ? Why could I never hear from you ? 32 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Hopeful. Cheer up, my boy. You may find her some day yet. The future may yet be rosy, and love, the crowning joy, be added to all your other blessings. Now of all other times, the day following your graduation and your honors, you must not be sad. I have good news too from the mines. They have struck it rich there, sir, struck it rich. They have reached the carbonate vein in the Rising Star, and the superintendent writes me it is immensely rich. Kit. Well, that is good indeed. But money seems to pour in on a man when he does not care for it, and the thing he prizes more than life itself is withheld. Hopeful. As woman on creation morn was God's last best gift to man, so may it be in your individual case. No man knows what even the near future has in store for him. Philosophy, calm and placid science should teach us to make the most of the joys we have, and not torture our- selves longing for those beyond our reach. Kit. Away with philosophy; it is the food of minds dis- eased ; the strong and brave do not need it, except in love, and that is a weapon that no armed philosophy can fight against. Hopeful. Yes, so say I ; let's leave philosophy for those dreamy minds that live entirely in the future ; minds that think and dream, but never act. That is, let's leave it for the present like a garment laid aside to be put on again when the cold blasts and beating storms assail us. Kit. Well, you are philosophical even in discarding phil- osophy. Hopeful. Yes, oh, yes. But, Kit, tell us of your life at Yale. Kit. Oh, there is not much to tell. I have simply worked through a four years' course and graduated with honors. But I feel like a mere school -boy ; feel that I know less than I did when I went in. It has only opened up to my sight the illimitable sea beyond yet to be explored. I only know how little I know. While in its nature necessarily so, the work at Yale is in a measure hum-drum. It is a field of thought, theory, preparation. Preparation for the field, the world in which we act. I am glad that. I have- stepped at last into the arena of life, where I can use my weapons given me at Yale. Education is but a weapon placed in our hands to do battle with. We can only use it well by practice. It is a musical instrument, and may be never so perfect, but the music depends on the player. The minds of the masses is the instrument on which I hope to play. If 1 play it well, the good will be great. If but poorly the evil cannot be measured. On one thing, how- A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 33 ever, I am firmly resolved, that whatever else there may be, however well or indifferently I may succeed in playing* the rhythm shall be the right. Hopeful. Well said, my boy, well said. While denounc- ing philosophy you are philosophical still. Kit. How wide a world there is before us yet to learn. A college course only brings us to the border and lets us look out at the broad expanse beyond. Those who think that a college course gives us all there is to know, do not yet know the first thing there is to learn. Hopeful. And what is taught is largely experimental, is it not? Kit. Yes, theory and not practice. The most helpless man in battling with the world is a new college graduate. Yet he has a good foundation on which to build a practical life. Hopeful. Would you advise a young man starting in life with small means to spend it in a college course or rather in establishing a business ? Kit. I would unhesitatingly say in a college education. In addition to the moral strength, it gives the self-respect and satisfaction ; it gives a man a keener insight into the ways of the world, into men and motives. However theo- retical and unsatisfactory it may be, as a capital to start life with, in the long run, it wins against large odds. If we look at the higher positions in life, at Congressional halls, and judges' bench, we find the statistical fact that in four cases out of five these highest positions are filled by college grad- uates. But I am glad it is over, and now, armed and ac- coutred, I am ready for the battle of life. But whoever may be the stronger, may the victory be to the right. Hopeful. A noble sentiment, worthy of the generous knight that says it. But undesirable as it may be, we must descend from those noble flights to the contemptible hum- drum of life : for after your journey you must be hungry. Pardon me, I'll order a little luncheon brought in here, and we'll dine later. [Rings Bell. Enter Katie. Katie, bring a little luncheon in here, well dine at eight. j Katie. [Looking at Kit and blushing.] Yes, sir. [Exit. Kit. [Staring after her.] Who is that girl ? I have sure- ly seen her. Her face is familiar. I cannot mistake that look. Her eyes shoot to my heart the same old thrill. Enter Katie, icith tray. It is Helen ! It is Helen ! Darling, at last, at last ! [Rushes forward and takes her in his arms ; Helen drops tray.] 34 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Hopeful. You've struck it rich, Kit, struck it rich. [Exit. Helen. Oh, Kit ! Kit ! How could you do so ? Kit. My dear Helen ! How could I help it ? I love you better than life itself. Wealth and luxury are dross with- out you and your love. Be my wife, Helen ! Be my wife and let us be married at once. Helen. I love you most, most dearly, dear, but I cannot marry you now. Not for a year yet, at any rate. ' jfei! Why? Why not now ? A year to wait is an age, an age of misery, an age of torture. I cannot endure it ! Helen. Can you not, darling, in my love endure any- thing? Kit. Yes, in your love anything but deferred hope, which maketh the heart sick. Why wait, darling? Why not. now? A million times better now than in a year. See, a year of bliss that will be saved if we marry, and that will be lost if Ave wait. Helen. When you met me I was rich ; now I am a pau- per. I cannot come to you a beggar. Kit. Folly, darling, folly. What is money when love is at stake. By the side of love, diamonds fill but the office of sombre settings, against which dark background love shines a sun, a glorious, glaclening sun. But if money does weigh for aught, I have enough for both. I have millions already mined and coined ; and millions more undug, lying ready for the drill and blast. Come, fair, noble lady, it is. you I would marry, and not any paltry gold you might pos- sess. Say " yes," and name the happy hour — the present. Our good friend Hopeful will bring the man of God, who will sanction before the world the union of hearts that has long existed. Helm. My noble knight and my lover, how impetuous you are ! .You rush onward sweeping all before you Jike your native mountain torrents. But how can a beggar marry a king ? ■-..., . . . . ... Enter . Hopeful , with a hurrah ! ■Hopeful. . Beggar ! Who says "a beggar?" You've struck it rich, my lady, struck it rich. Here is your certi- ficate of deposit for oiie hundred thousand dollars in the Chemical National Bank. A modest dowery for a beggar girl ! And — here — is — a — marriage — license — issued — by the — Great — Commonwealth — of-— New York, — granting— unto— Kit — Carson, — Bachelor,— and — unto — Miss — Helen — 'Jorbiu, — S 4 >in>ter, — permission — Lo marry at once. And here — come in, sir — A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 35 Enter Clergyman, is the man of God to make this pair one, which as master of ceremonies, I command to b8 done forthwith. Helen. Oh, is it a dream ? Is it a dream? Clergyman. It seems a reality, a solemn reality. Helen. I am but clay, mold me as you will. Clergyman. [To Kit.] Take her hand, sir. [They take positions.] Does anyone know aught why this man should not take this woman to be his lawful wife ; if so, let him now make it known or forever Rashes in in a loilcl frenzy, Mike. Mike. [Yells] Hould, hould, hould, hould ! yer riverence, I forbid the banns, I forbid the banns, I forbid the banns ! Stop it, stop it, stop it! Be the silver-tongued pipers of Ballymaloch will yees stop itl Att. Mike, Mike ! It's Mike ! [All rush forward and caress him ; Helen hugs him.] Mike. Yees are right. If this gintleman, his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy, knows himself at- all, at- all, I'm that same, shoore. And I pledge yees me word and honor, the sacred honor of a gintleman of the ouldsod, I niver, till death do us part, want 1o be anybody else as lono* as yees trate me in this same affectionate manner. Helen. Mike, tell me, does father live ? Mike. Live is it, darlint ? Live ? And be the saintly pipers of Bonny Doon, he does then. And isn't it himself that's jist forninst there, waitin' for me to see if this is the right house, and I'm thinking I'll be telling him it is, Enter Corbin, Sandeval, and Agnes. [Exit minister , unobserved by others. Helen. Oh, father ! father ! [Falls in his arms. Corbin. My lovely daughter Helen, once more I clasp you to my heart ! Helen. What perfect bliss to be again united after those terrible scenes. Bat, father, where have you been all these sorrowful years? How long I have mourned, mourned for you. Corbin. It is a long, tedious story, that we'll talk over quietly after awhile. Suffice it now that 1 am safe, thanks to my good friend here, Sandeval. Hopeful. [Motions Helen aside and says to her :] Miss Corbin, I discovered your secret — have every thing ready. You will find in that room a bridal trosseau suited to your station, with maids waiting to dress you. Now let us see in the shortest space of time possible how you will look in the handsomest dress of the lot. 36 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. Helen. Oh, noble friend, how I thank yon. I'll follow your wishes. [Exit. [ While this side play is going on, the others talk aside'; Mike is heard saying :] Mike. Yes, indade, he's a noble friend, and it's his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shauglmessy, late of onld Erin, county of Killarney, town of Killdown, and still later of Mexico and Central America, the divil blow 'em, that will remember his kindness till his dying day. Kit. [To Corbin\ Give us the main facts of your captivi- ty and escape. Corbin. Well, my friend Sancleval here, though engaged in an unlawful pursuit, yet possessed a noble and tender heart. The beauty, purity and truth of our fair companion here won that generous heart, and the robber of the pines reformed and became a lover and a friend. He decided on our release and started back to restore us to our friends at Pueblo. At a miner's camp we learned of your escape and the death of Ransome, which event was celebrated on the spot by the marriage of Sandeval and Agnes. — Allow me to present Mrs. Sandeval, gentlemen. [All shake hands icith Agnes.'] Kit. Glad to know you, madam, as the wife of so brave and noble a man. A man who has fought the whole world so bravely when in the wrong, will bring the blows of a Hercules when battling for the right. Happy was I to know you as Agnes Levannion ; happier still am I to know you as Mrs. Sandeval, the loved and honored wife of the reformed robber chief. Joy, much joy. [Kisses her hand ; . to Sandeval.] And to you, too, noble knight, once the ter- ror, now the joy and pride of the honest sons of the Sierras. Hopeful. [To Mrs. and Mr. Sandeval.] Much joy to you both and welcome to my house and home. I pray you that you will make it your own as long as you may remain in the city, and grace it with your presence at each returning visit. Mike. Long live her ladyship in happiness and plinty. And if yees ever come to the town of Killdown yees will meet a warm welcome from his honor, the honorable Mi- chael O'Shauglmessy. Corbin. On our way from this miner's camp to Pueblo we were captured by Indians, who carr ed us down through Mexico to Central America, where we have been in bondage ever since. But the out-door life and climate have given me health and strength, and added ten years to my life. A KNIGHT AND A LADY, 37 A short time ago, the American Consul, learning there was a party of white people supposed to be Americans in capti- vity among the Indians, opened negotiations, which resulted in our release, and we just arrived by steamer in New York. On getting the American newspapers, and looking over the mining intelligence, Ave saw accounts of the Rising Star mines and the name of the Honorable Greatheart Hopeful as president of the company. By inquiry we readily found his house, and here we are. Kit. Romantic indeed. The furious arrival of your avant courier here [Motioning to Mike] broke up a very in- teresting little affair,the marriage of your daughter Helen and myself. And now that you are here in person, I, under dif- ferent auspices than when we last met, ask your consent to our union. Corbin. Which I not only willingly but most gladly give, to a man who has proved himself one of the most noble and honorable among men. Where is Helen ? Hopeful. Here she is, sir. [Leading in Helen, magnifi- cently dressed.] Corbin. And where is the holy man to make them one? Hopeful. He has retired till wanted. Mike. And, be the harps that rang through Tara's halls, I'll go for him. Corbin. Well, send for him at once, and let the marriage of these two noble hearts consummate the happy end of all our sorrows. Positions : Hopeful, Corbin, Helen, Kit, Agnes, Sande- val, Mike. [Curtain. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS ■HI 017 400 227 7