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 THE 
 
 / e, 
 
 GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 % f vitmii. 
 
 BY w. PAGE Mccarty. 
 
 (FOUNDED ON THE HISTOraCAL ACCOUNTS, AND THE LEGENDARY ACCOUNT BY 
 
 CAIiUTHEES, OF THE " TRAMONTANE ORDER," OR KNIGHTS 
 
 OF THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE.) 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 RICHMIO ISTID: 
 
 F. A. CHRISTIAN, PUBLISHER. 
 
 1876. 
 
 // 
 

 ^^^\^ 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 (QTIBE^Sr .A-NNE'S TIiyiE.) 
 
 SIK ALEXANDER.— Maroon velvet coat and breeches; white waistcoat, gold-lacud; full-bottomed 
 white wig. 2d dress : Scarlet uniform of a general officer. 
 
 HENRY PARKE.— Violet-colored coat ; white, or buff, satin waistcoat ; wig, &c. 
 
 DR. BLAIR.— Plain black dress. 
 
 HENRY WELLFORD.— Black dress, with dark beard, and hair tied. 2d dress : Full Ranger's uniform ; 
 hair on shoulders. 3d dress : Scarlet uniform of Colonel in the British army ; full-bottomed white 
 wig ; face smooth. 
 
 NICK JARVIS. — Deerskin coat, cobuskin cap, leggings and moccasins ; blond beard and hair ; powder- 
 horn and pouch ; long Spanish gun. 
 
 WENONCtA. — Close dress of buckskin, ornamented with feathers ; scarlet robe, scarlet cap and band of 
 feathers. 
 
 RANGERS. — Light green uniform; jack boots; straight, cup-hilt swords; short musketoon. Officers: 
 Silver-laced, with yellow scarf embroidered. 
 
 LADY S. — Morning dress. 2d dress : Brilliant court dress of the period. 
 
 KATE S. — Scarlet riding dress, similar to Lady S. 2d and 3d, in style of the others. 
 
 HELEN. — ^Black velvet ; golden hair. 3d : white wrapper, 2d dress : Same as first. 4th : Pale blue 
 silk ; butf embroidered court train, and lace over-dress ; powdered hair. 
 
 SERVANTS.— Orange liveries. 
 
 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1876, by W. Page McCarty, in the 
 Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
THE 
 
 GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 A DEAMA. 
 
 lISriT'OXJR-A.CTS. 
 
 DKAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Sir Alexander Spotswood, Governor of the Colony of Virginia. 
 
 Col. John Spotswood, his Son, Commander of the Rangers. 
 
 Henry Parke Esq., Speaker of the House of Burgesses. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Blair, President of the College. 
 
 Capt. Dennis O'Clare, 1 officers of the Rangers and members of the "Tramon- 
 
 Capt. Brent, ^ tane Order." ^ 
 
 Capt. Carter, J 
 
 Henry Wellford, a tutor in the Governor's household. 
 
 Nick Jarvis, a Scout in the Governor's service. 
 
 Wenonga, a young Chief of the Shawnees, a hostage educated at the College. 
 
 ToMANA, a stately old negro servant, the Governor's Major Domo. 
 
 Roger Martin, Captain of the Body Guard. 
 
 The Sheriff of the Grand Court of Inquest. 
 
 A Chamberlain. 
 
 Lady Spotswood. 
 
 Kate Spotswood, her daughter, betrothed to Capt. O'Clare. 
 
 Helen Blair, Dr. Blair's daughter. 
 
 Lucy, a maid servant. 
 
 Two Bailiffs, Rangers, Indians, Ladies, Gentlemen, servants. 
 
 THE SCENE is in the Colony of Virginia, in the year 17 14. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE. — The Grand Eeception Hall in the Governor's Palace at 
 
 Williamsburg. 
 
 Lady Spotswood and Kate seated in front; Sir Alexander looking 
 
 at map; Dr. Blair and Wenonga at back on l. il; Helen on 
 
 R. H., looking at portrait over mantel. 
 
 [^Song loithinl] 
 
 Kate. Mama, I wonder will the men ever leave the dinner table. 
 As soon as the Queen's health is called, 'tis their signal to begin a 
 carouse. 
 
 Lady 8. My dear, rememl^er, this is the meeting of the "Tramon- 
 tane Order," and a special council of war, to arrange Sir Alexander's 
 great expedition against the Indians. 
 
4 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOfi. 
 
 Kate. I have been waiting for O'Clare this half hour; not that I 
 care for him, for I see enough of him. Men are all horrid wretches, 
 and one's intended husband the worst of all. 
 
 Lady S. 'Tis your duty, Miss, to love whomsoever your parents 
 appdint. Nothing becomes a young woman so much as filial duty. 
 
 Kate (aside). When will the old people learn that the true way to 
 make a girl love a man is to tell her not to do it. 
 
 Lady S. See how Helen stands' contemplating Gen'l Elliot's portrait, 
 simply because it is associated with her dead lover, Albert Parke, to 
 whom her father gave her hand ten years ago. 
 
 Kate. But, Mama, the brilliant Col. Albert Parke, the favorite Aide 
 of the Duke of Marlborough and the hero of Oudenarde, was a different 
 sort of man from Capt. Dennis O'Clare, of the Colonial P^angers. And 
 killed, too, in that romantic manner, trying to rescue Gen'l Ellio't from 
 the scaffold ! Who wouldn't love such a hero ? 
 
 Lady S. You have been reading poetry, Miss ; for which, in my time, 
 a girl would have been put under lock and key, 
 
 Kate. A prison ! (Aside). And perhaps one's lover to sing under the 
 window like a Spanish cavalier ; how lovely ! Mama, the only poetry 
 I ever read was that which Col. Albert wrote to Helen when he went to 
 the wars. And I'll wager she is repeating it to herself now. ( Walks 
 up.) Helen, my love, cheer up. We are companions in grief; I have 
 my sorrows too. 
 
 Hellcn. Your sorrows, Kate? Why I never saw a cloud on your face 
 except when Capt. O'Clare had been cold; and I would not cause you a 
 moment's grief by reminding you of mine. 
 
 Lady S. My dear child, you are wrong. A woman in trouble Avith- 
 out a confidant is doubly unhappy. But 'tis no dishonor to the memory 
 of the lost one to enjoy the world. That is why we keep you here while 
 the palace is full of gay young gallants. There's not one among them 
 who would not gladly lay hand and fortune at your feet, from your 
 faithful suitor, Plenry Parke, to the new tutor. 
 
 Hellcn. Dear Lady Spotswood, I care not for such offers; and as for 
 Henry Parke, he but reminds me of his brother, and naturally enough 
 he must suff'er by the comparison. But this new tutor: know you 
 nothing of his previous history, and whence he came ? 
 
 Lady S. Absolutely nothing. He maintains a perfect reserve ; and if 
 Sir Alexander knows anything of him, he chooses not to disclose it. 
 
 Hellen. Though I have never exchanged a word with him, he excites 
 my curiosity beyond measure. With his dark, mysterious look, he seems 
 to be haunted by the memory of a crime ; yet at times he looks as frank 
 and open as the daylight itself. 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 5 
 
 ivate. And as handsome, as a hero of romance. 
 
 Lady S. My dear, he looks to me like a disguised pirate; and 
 when I reflect that Sir Alexander took him unrecommcnded, I tremble 
 lest my suspicions should be confirmed. More than one of the Buccan- 
 eers have had the audacity to appear in our midst disguised as gentlemen. 
 ^ Kate. A pirate in disguise ! I shall be desperately in love with him* 
 
 Hdlen. The scar on his forehead is suggestive; and do you remark 
 that he wears his hair in the new fashion of Bollingbroke ? When his 
 gleaming eyes meet mine, I thrill with a feeling partly fear and partly — 
 I know not what; and when he speaks his voice is like the low tones 
 of the organ. His must be a strange story. 
 
 Lady S. Beware, my dear child. I've seen the dreadful creature's 
 eyes fixed on you as if he intended to carry you oif, or murder you — 
 or somethino; dreadful. 
 
 Hellen. You alarm me ; what reason could he have to look at me ? 
 
 Lady S. What reason had the wretch. Blackboard, for looking at the 
 poor girl whom he carried ofi" two years ago from her father's house on 
 the Potomac ? You have heard the story, how he courted her, disguised 
 like a Spanish Don, and one moonlight night lured her to the beech ; 
 her parents heard one shriek, and ran out in time to see the pirate ship 
 set her sails and bear away. 
 
 Helen. How dreadful ! 
 
 Kate (aside). How romantic ! [Laughter within.] 
 
 Lady S. The gentlemen are still at it. 
 
 Kate. And I warrant you 0' Clare is at their head. 
 
 Lady S. And this is the way Sir Alexpuider organizes his expedition! 
 An old soldier will long for war just as an old player for applause, and 
 I do believe Sir Alexander would go to battle on crutches if he could 
 get enough silly young men to follow him. 
 
 Sir A. [FoMing uj) oncq^-) You are right. Lady Spotswood, so I 
 would; but I thank Heaven, I'm not come to that pinch yet, and I'll 
 show her Majesty's enemies that I'm as good a soldier as when the 
 Scotch dragoons headed the grand charge at Hochstadt; when the 
 Duke himself rode in front of us with his hat in his hand as calmly as 
 if he were riding a hunt across the smoothest meadow, without a hedge 
 or ditch in sight. 
 
 Lady S. Now, Sir Alexander, don't drag us by the hair of our heads 
 around the field of Blenheim, or Hochstadt, as you call it. We wish to 
 ask you about the new tutor. I do not like to trust our boy to that 
 man ; he looks like a pirate. 
 
 Sir A. And what says the lovely Hellen? The tutor could not drink 
 his wine to-day at table for looking at her. 
 
6 THE GOLDEN IIORSESHOE. 
 
 Hellen. Indeed, Sir Alexander, I am alarmed, just as Lady Spots- 
 wood and Kate are. 
 
 Kate [aside). But I'm not; if there is anything I could adore 'twould 
 be a pirate. 
 
 Sir A. You are all mistaken; Master Wellford is an accomplished 
 gentleman, and, what's more, an accomplished soldier; he drew me the 
 plans of Marlbrook's battles as well as I could have done myself. He 
 may have been involved in some of the Pretender's intrigues, but that's 
 nothing against him as a man of honor. My own half-brother there, 
 [pointing to portrait), lost his life' on the scaffold for that cause; and 
 even I have been suspected. And, my dear friends, if this same expe- 
 dition does not prosper, in all likelihood the Queen will give the govern- 
 orship of this rich colony to our friend Henry Parke. Thirty thousand 
 pounds a year, madam, makes me a rich planter, to be sure ; but without 
 the sound of drums and bugles, I think I should die in a single day. 
 
 Lady S. And, Sir Alexander, will you take this tutor into your con- 
 fidence ? 
 
 Sir A. No, madam, for he's already in. Here, Tomana; [^ringing 
 hell. Enter To')nana.) Tell the young officers and gentlemen I expect 
 them here presently ; and tell Nick Jarvis, the scout, and Master Well- 
 ford, the tutor; and that's all. [Exit Toinana l.] 
 
 Lady S. I'm delighted. Sir Alexander, that you are breaking up this 
 carouse. 
 
 Kate. So am I, for now I can ride out. 
 
 Hellen [aside). And I can be alone. 
 
 Sir A. As for that. Lady Spotswood, let the lads have their bout. 
 Two things a soldier must have, his sweethea^rt and his bottle. Besides, 
 I shall need all their enthusiasm to bear me through. The Buro-esses 
 oppose me at every step. Ah ! these lazy planters, they make fortunes 
 planting tobacco, and think of nought but spending their means cock- 
 fighting, drinking and racing, while the French are taking the vast 
 country west, which belongs properly to us English. But if necessary, 
 I'll march with only my body-guard and our corps of, rangers. And 
 with God's help, I'll set St. George's banner on the Appelache mountains ; 
 damn me if I don't! 
 
 Lady S. Now, Sir Alexander, why will you couple a curse with a 
 prayer ? 
 
 Sir A. Because, madam, the occasion demands both. Here, B,ev. Doc- 
 tor, let us to the library for a moment, before our young friends join us; 
 that is, dear sir, if you are not too busily engaged with your pupil. 
 
 Lr. B. Nay, your Excellency, we were but discoursing on our ususal 
 theme, the beautiful valley in the West beyond the mountains, and the 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 7 
 
 various tribes dwelling there ; and especially concerning tlie distance to 
 that pass where the river Rappahannock breaks through the Apalache 
 Range; I think it cannot be over two hundred and fifty miles distant. 
 
 Sir A. To which our young friend and pupil {patting Wenongas head) 
 shall lead us, and where he shall reign over all the Virginia tribes, sub- 
 ject only to our Colonial Vice Regency and the Queen. So, Rev. Sir, 
 shall we beerin that noble work of conversion and civilization which shall 
 
 O 
 
 make the Englishman a benefactor rather than a mere conqueror. 
 
 Weno7iga {rising). And your Excellency has my word pledged by 
 that divine faith for which I forsook the gods of my own people. 
 
 Sir A. All praise to the Rev. Doctor, for bringing thee to a sense of 
 former error. But come, we have certain matters to discuss before join- 
 ing our friends. [Exeu7it Sir A., Dr. B. and Wenonga, r.] 
 
 Lady S. Hellen, here comes Mr. Parke ; what an elegant cavalier ! 
 
 Kate. And, Hellen, here comes Capt. O'Clare; what a perfect sim- 
 pleton ! 
 
 Hellen. My dearest friend, trifle not with him, for under his careless 
 mein he hides a brave and honest heart. Love while you may, Kate, 
 for life, love and fortune are alike fickle. 
 
 Entei' Parke, l. 
 
 Parke. Mistress Hellen, may I offer you my arm for a walk in the 
 garden? [Ex. Hellen a/ wZ Parke, c] 
 
 Enter Capt. Brent, l. 
 
 Capt. B. May I olier your Ladyship my arm for a walk on the south 
 portico? [Ex. Lady and Capt. B., c] 
 
 Enter Capt. O'Clare, l. 
 
 O'Clare. Ah, Kate (kisses her hand), forgive me, but hospitality has 
 claims even above gallantry ; and being the Governor's guest, I had to 
 drink so many healths that, faith, I didn't find out how tipsy I was till 
 I waked up sober. 
 
 Kate. And when was that ? 
 
 O'Clare. Just this minute. But don't let us quarrel even in jest, for 
 who knows what day your father will have us off' to fight the Indians; 
 and when that old veteran smells powder, he'll have some of us knocked 
 on the head just to make us remember afterwards that we've seen real 
 war ; and then what would you say ? 
 
 Kate. I say, by all means, O'Clare, get knocked on the head, and see 
 what you'll remember afterwards. * 
 
8 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 0' Clare. Upon my honor I could do it, just to see you serious for 
 once. 
 
 Kate. You would be disappointed. 
 
 O' Clare. Would I? Maybe it's a wise dispensation of Providence 
 that we can't be alive and dead both at once. But, Kate, what a para- 
 gon of constancy Plellen Blair is. She's as faithful to poor Albert's 
 memory as if he was alive and married to her. 
 
 Kate. Oh, you simpleton ! How could she be faithful to his memory 
 if he were alive ? 
 
 0' Clare. Don't ask me, for nobody can explain a woman's actions. 
 
 [Laughter within.] 
 
 Kate. Why, I thought all the gentlemen had left the dinner table. 
 
 0' Clare. Except your brother and Carter, who never deserts his com- 
 mander when the order is, {makes motion of raising glass to his lips). 
 
 Kate. Ah, O'Clare, tell me, was not my brother's late illness the 
 result of his dissipation ? In his delirium he often seized my hand and 
 cried, Wingheena, which is the name of" the beautiful Indian girl, We- 
 nonga's sister, who lives with Dr. Blair. 
 
 0' Clare. The devil he did ? I beg your pardon, but — 
 
 Kate. But what ? 
 
 O'Clare. Why, to be plain, I fear your brother. Col. John, has been 
 over attentive to that pretty savage, and the consequences might be 
 dreadful if the young chief, her brother, finds it out. But let us talk of 
 this as we ride. 
 
 Kate. Yes, for the sun is almost set. 
 
 O'Clare. But be careful, Kate, to remember not to forget anything. 
 
 [Tries to kiss her.] 
 
 Enter Tomana. Ex. O'Clare and Kate, c, Tomana r. Enter Col. 
 JoiTN Spotswood and Parke, l. 
 
 Col. S. Why, Parke, I thought you were walking in the garden with 
 your lady love. , 
 
 Parke. So I was, but the d — d tutor was sitting in the pavillion, pre- 
 tending to read papers and maps, and she could not keep her eyes off of 
 him. Jack S})otswood, there's never a woman in the world but will 
 encourage a new suitor if only to vex the old one. 
 
 Col S. 'Fore God, you are right; but if your rival bothers you, call 
 him out; that's the rule in Old England, and why not here in our 
 Colony. 
 
 Parke. Fight a tutor ! Thank you, I have something better for him ; 
 and if you will stand by me, I'll lay the rascal by the heels this very 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 9 
 
 evening. I have but to show a letter I have in my possession to my 
 friend Clayton, the Attorney-General, and this interesting stranger be- 
 comes the guest of the sheriff. 
 
 Col. S. I'm your man, Harry, but you must help me to get my Indian 
 wench off to one of the frontier settlements within this week, or else 
 her brother finds out the intrigue, and then the devil will Ije to pay. 
 
 Parke {giving, him his hand). An alliance offensive and defensive. 
 
 Col. S. I must off to my quarters in the barracks, and souze my head 
 in cold water before I appear before the Governor. We will discuss this 
 to-night. [Exit c] 
 
 Parke. Ah, Jack Spotswood, you have given me another weapon with 
 which to accomplish my purpose. I have plotted in the House of Bur- 
 gesses to defeat this expedition with which Sir Alexander bolsters up his 
 reputation at Court. When Wenonga knows that the son of his patron 
 has ruined his sister, there's nothing he'll halt at to get his revenge, and 
 'twill need but a shrewd adviser at hand to show" him how to lead the 
 army into an ambuscade in the passes of the mountains. If Sir Alex- 
 ander fails, the next Governor will be Henry Parke ; and then we shall 
 see, Mistress Hellen, if a woman can resist wealth and power combined. 
 Whatever be the struggle in a man's heart, 'twixt good and evil, when 
 the line is once overleapt, I hold him but a coward who dallies with 
 temptation, and hesitates at any deed to achieve success. Aye, success, 
 the god who so 'often demands at his shrine the sacrifice of honor, but 
 in return fulfils the brightest dreams of ambition and love. The thought 
 that another may take the woman whom I have loved since childhood, 
 turns my heart to cold steel, and leaves no qualm of conscience at which 
 I would stick. Let me but foil this expedition completely, and then, 
 cold, haughty beauty, be you as chaste as the moon, as inaccessil^le as 
 the sun, you are still but a woman, and you shall yield when the seducer 
 comes, like the god of old, in a shower of gold. And now to play the 
 courtier to these thoughtless fools. \_Pxit R.j 
 
 Enter Nick Jarvis and Tomana, c. 
 
 Nick. Major, I thought I smelt pisen; wasn't that that sleek Harry 
 Parke ? 
 
 Toviana. That gentleman, sir, was Mr. Henry Parke, Esq., Presi- 
 dent of the House of Burgesses, and the richest and handsomest gen- 
 tleman in the colony, except his Excellency, sir. 
 
 Nick. Major, I've got a shorter name for him than all that; and as 
 for handsome, don't you know that the prettiest, but the pisenest of all 
 varmints is a young pole-kitten ? 
 2 
 
10 THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 
 
 Tomana. No, sir; but, Mr. Jarvis, no guns is allowed in this Hall. 
 
 Nick. Major, did you ever see a big, black bar, standin on his hind 
 legs ? 
 
 Tomana. No, sir, I never did. 
 
 Nick. Well, I was goin to say, look in that big lookin-glass, but I 
 Avon't say it. Here, take her {wrapping red handkerchief round lock 
 of gun), and set her down same as if she was a suckin baby. [Exit 
 Tor)iana). That there's a good old nigger, and he's prouder of his 
 master than his master is of his own self. I wonder what the old Gov- 
 ernor wants with me this time. If he tells me about one of ole Mul- 
 berry's battles, I'm blessed if I don't go to sleep same as if I was in 
 church of a hot Sunday morning. I reckon he wants me to blaze a 
 road for him through the woods, to go after yaller niggers. These gen- 
 tle folks knows no more about huntin 'em than me about playin on the 
 fiddle in the kingdom o' heaven. Thank the Lord I ain't a gentleman, 
 to have to live in sech a close place without no ar, and always bowin 
 and scrapin same as if they was at a dancin school. \_Feet on table.] 
 
 Miter Capt. Cartee, l. 
 
 Capt. C. Scout, you seem to be making yourself as much at home as 
 if you were a gentleman. 
 
 Nick. I am, almost. I can cuss, drink, fight, horse-race, run after 
 gals and fight roosters, 
 
 Ca2:>t. C. Those are certainly gentlemanlike accomplishments, but I 
 think, my lad, you'll need something more to make you a gentleman. 
 
 Nick. You mean to war fine close that ar'n't paid for. But, look 
 here, Cap'n, you know your big black and red rooster ? I've got 
 something to beat him. 
 
 Cajjt. C. Have you? [Takijig snuff). 
 
 Nick. Yes. [Taking out an immense tobacco leaf). It's a hock that 
 I've raised from a little suckin chicken not that big. 
 
 C. Capt. 'You mean a hawk. 
 
 Nick. Didn't I say hock ? You may heel your rooster with two gaffs, 
 one gaff and a slasher, or two slashers; I ar'n't carin. I only give my 
 bird his natural gaffs. 
 
 Capt. C We'll see about it ; but, Scout, where's your money ? 
 
 Nick. Don't you bother about money ; the ole Oovernor gives me a 
 big red purse full of yaller boys every month for watchin Injuns in the 
 woods while your durned lazy Eangers are asleep in the block-forts, or 
 runnin after gals. Besides, as long as varmints is born with skins on 
 their backs, so long does money grow on trees for Nick Jarvis ; and 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 11 
 
 I'll bet on anybody or anything — always would. Why shouldn't I ? I 
 ar'n't got no father nor mother, and never had any. 
 
 Capt. C. Then, how the devil did you come into this world ? 
 
 JSfick. I just come here so. First thing I knowed, was, a ole woman 
 spankin me with a shoe, and I took to the woods, like a chipmonk that 
 you'd tried to tame and couldn't. That varmint can't be tamed, he 
 can't. 
 
 Capt. C. And did you learn to bet from your associates in the woods ? 
 
 Nick. No, that come just so. When I was goin to die with aguer, 
 Dr. Blar tells me, " Nick, you've been a bad boy, and I'm feared you 
 won't go to heaven;" and I says, ''Dr., what would be the use of me 
 goin to heaven? I'd just be bettin which angel could fly the best." 
 {Takes out pack of cards). Cap'n Carter, I'm mighty glad you come in; 
 I was gettin lonesome. I always want somebody to talk to, and I'll 
 keep company with any sort before I'll stay by myself. 
 
 Capt. C. A compliment, upon my word ! 
 
 Enter Sir Alexander and gentlemen, r. 
 
 Sir A. Ah, Scout, are you there ? 
 
 Nick. I reckon I am. Governor. 
 
 Sir A. My lad, you and the young chief, Wenonga, are to be our 
 guides. 
 
 Nick. Anything you say, Governor, but there ar'n't no dependence to 
 be put in yaller niggers, wild or tame. 
 
 Sir A. Pshaw, my lad, you are prejudiced. 
 
 Nick, I was. Governor, but the Doctor has done give me some bitters. 
 
 Sir A. Gentlemen, be seated {all sit). We must settle our plans dif- 
 ferently at this Council, for our arms and equipments are all ready. It 
 only needs a vote of men and money by the House of Burgesses. But 
 we wait for one of our number. 
 
 Several. Who? 
 
 Sir A. The tutor. Master Wellford. Where can he be ? 
 
 Nick {at hack). Here he comes. Governor. 
 
 Enter Welford, c. 
 
 Sir A. Ah, Master Wellford, we were waiting for you. 
 
 Wellford. Your Excellency, and gentlemen, I humbly beg pardon for 
 my delay; but I have presumed so far on your Excellency's authority 
 as to investigate another plan for this same expedition ; and I trust I 
 have discovered somethino; of value. 
 
 Sir A. Out with it then, man, and never halt at the presumption. 
 Nay, hesitate not. Master Wellford, we are all friends here. 
 
12 THE GOLDEN HOUSESHOE. 
 
 Nick {aside to Brent and Carter). Specially his pet cat, We- 
 nonga. 
 
 Brent. Hnsli ! he's about to begin. Damme, Carter, the fellow looks 
 like a cross between a pirate and a parson. 
 
 CajDt. C. Listen, he's unrolling his papers. 
 
 Wellford. Then, your Excellency, I perceive from these papers that 
 your plan is to make an expedition with cavalry, in order that the five 
 months of warm weather may be sufficient to accomplish the distance. 
 Your design beina; to break the line of settlements with which the French 
 are attempting to connect their position on the great Lakes with their 
 other post at New Orleans. At the same time you propose to overcome 
 the Indian power, and place all the tribes of Virginia under a Christian 
 chief, who is to civilize and convert the Indians, and hold them by a 
 sort of vice-regency, subject to her Majesty, the Queen. 
 
 Sir A. Properly stated, sir. Gentlemen, you comprehend this plan ? 
 
 All. We do. Governor. 
 
 Wellford. The arms and equipments for two thousand men being all 
 ready, the only difiiculty is, to obtain a vote of men and money by the 
 House of Burgesses. 
 
 Sir A. Aje, my lad, that's where we balk; that's where we are string- 
 halted and spavined. 
 
 Wellford. Then, sir, behold, I have the spurs to set in the side of this 
 jaded steed, at the touch of which he shall leap the obstacle. 
 
 Sir A. Clap 'em on, then, in God's name, and you shall wear gold 
 ones for your reward. 
 
 Wellford. The matter stands thus : with your body-guard and the 
 three squadrons of Puangers, you have one thousand men; but you need 
 a thousand more. 
 
 Sir A. Fired off clean as a round shot. 
 
 Wellford. I take it, sir, that this same ''Tramontane Order" is organ- 
 ized by her Majesty's authority especially for this service, and the Order 
 is composed of twenty-four of the wealthiest and best gentlemen of this 
 rich colony, young, ambitious and ready for adventure ? 
 
 Sir A. Else devil a one should follow me. 
 
 Several. We are ready for anything, your Excellency. 
 
 Wellford. Then, your Excellency, instead of waiting for the dilatory, 
 and perhaps unfavorable action, of the Burgesses, proclaim at once that 
 each member of the ''Tramontane Order" who brings fifty mounted 
 followers to your standard, at his own cost, shall have a grant of twenty 
 thousand acres of land in the valley beyond the mountains; and each 
 private volunteer five hundred. 
 
'THE GOLDEN JIORSESHOS. .13 
 
 Sir A. [rising). Young man, that's an inspiration from heaven. The 
 Burgesses may go to the cleviL {Shakes hands with WeUforcT). 
 
 All. Bravo! Master Wellfbrd, you've clapped on the spurs to some 
 purpose. Any of us can raise fifty yeomen vohmteers in a month. 
 
 Sir A. Come, gentlemen, brevity is the word for a soldier. In one 
 month we will rendezvous at Germana, on the frontier, and to-morrow at 
 sunrise all of you be off to your various counties. I'll give each one 
 his commission for this service. 
 
 Brent. But, Sir Alexander, what shall we do for this enterprising 
 gentleman who has pointed us the way ? 
 
 Sir A. He shall be my Military Secretary until we find something 
 better for him. But let us break up our Council, for it only needs now 
 for each one to collect his troop ; and, hark ye all, when the bell tolls 
 for prayers, let not the Rev. Doctor read to empty chairs. 
 
 Parke {aside). In the meantime I will attend to the new Secretary, 
 and advise Wenonga. 
 
 Nick {aside to Brent and Carter), And we'll go and look at the 
 roosters. 
 
 Col. John Spotsioood (aside to Parke). We'll go to the Bachelor's 
 Wing for another bottle. 
 
 Dr. Blair {taking NickJarvis by arm)'. Truly, my good young friend, 
 I will take you to the library, for I have something of moment to say to 
 you. [ Takes him off r.] 
 
 Exeunt severally all except Sir A. and Wellford. 
 
 Sir A. {taking Wellford's hands). Ah, my friend, would that we 
 had that noble soldier there {pointi7ig to portrait) ; then, indeed, you 
 might see a Captain worthy to head such a brave adventure. But, alas ! 
 his fate overtook him on the very eve of his intended departure for the 
 Colony, where he would have been safe, and with him fell one scarcely 
 less brilliant, young Albert Parke. [Exit r.] 
 
 Wellford {contemplating portrait). Aje, most noble, knightly heart, 
 
 would thou couldst have found a home in this beautiful land, where 
 
 fortune and nature smile on each other, and ambition finds new and 
 
 glorious paths. Who so worthy to lead the youth of the New World to 
 
 glorious achievements as that matchless star of modern chivalry, whose 
 
 talentsi shone even by those of great Marlborough ? Plow the magic 
 
 brush of the limner has sought that expression, firm, yet ineffably sweet. 
 
 And how it recalls those memorable lines which he taught the young 
 
 soldier to address to his lady love — ■..■> 
 
 " I could not love thee, dear, so much, 
 Loved I not honor more." 
 
14 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 Enter Hellen, l. 
 . Hellen. Master Wellford. 
 
 Wellford. Madam. 
 
 Hellen. Forgive me, I pray you, sir, but I accidentally overheard tlie 
 words which recall a friend more dear to me than all the world. I have 
 often marked your looks bent on that picture, and longed to ask you if 
 you knew that young soldier who fell in attempting Gen'l Elliot's rescue? 
 Forgive me again, but grief breaks the bars of ceremony, 
 
 Wellford. You allude to Col. Albert Parke ? 
 
 Hellen. The same. Did you know him ? 
 
 Wellford. None better. 
 
 Hellen. And you repeated but now the lines he so often quoted, 
 
 Wellford. I did. The picture recalled Parke so vividly, that, uncon- 
 sciously I repeated the couplet which was constantly on. his lips at the 
 time he went to the wars instead of returning to the Colony to espouse 
 his betrothed. The lines show the young soldier's sentiment, 
 
 Hellen. Alas, yes ! But after his brilliant career, after winning the 
 favor of the Duke, and even of the Queen, what could have tempted 
 him to that desperate adventure which cost his life? Sir, you see before 
 you the broken hearted girl to whom you alluded as his betrothed. 
 
 Wellford. Broken hearted ! I thought that beautiful young ladies 
 found consolation for lost lovers in choosino; new ones. 
 
 Hellen. A\\ ! Master Wellford, there are women who, over the mem- 
 ory of a dead love, raise a shrine where they bring a worship scarcely 
 less holy than that to God, 
 
 Wellford. And Mistress Hellen is one of these ? — But you wish me 
 to tell you that sad story of Parke's fall ? 
 
 Hellen. Yes; however dreadful, it has a terrible fascination, and I 
 would hear each incident, 
 
 Wellford. Calm yourself. {They sii). I need not tell you how the 
 young ensign of the Scotch Dragoons rose in reputation till on the glo- 
 rious field of Oudenarde, serving on his Grace's personal staff, he was 
 accorded the honor of taking the news of victory to the Queen ; and as 
 that battle ended the campaign, he had also leave to return to the Colony 
 and comsummate his long intended marriage. Perhaps the young lady 
 herself can alone imagine his happiness as he hastened to lay his hard- 
 won laurels at the feet of his mistress. 
 
 Hellen. Cruel, cruel fortune, to be cut off in the zenith of fame and 
 hope ! 
 
 Wellford. Yes, that fickle goddess was about to prove how vainly her 
 votaries count on her favors. Young Albert had scarcely reached Edin- 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 15 
 
 Viorougli, when he heard of the condemnation of his old commander, 
 EUiot, as an adherent of the Pretender. The next morning the General 
 stood on the scaffold, which was enclosed by a square of Infantry and 
 Dragoons, to keep back the dense crowd, which was apparently on the 
 side of the condemned. Suddenly a party of horsemen, headed by 
 Parke, broke through the square and penetrated to the scaffold, crying, 
 ''Rescue." A most desperate attempt; the fusileers, facing inwards, 
 began firing on them, and the dragoons charged them sword in hand. 
 'Twas over in a moment. The people fled wildly in all directions, and 
 but four of the rescue party escaped. 
 
 Hellen. And those four? 
 
 Wellford. The young leader was not among them; and we were left 
 to conclude that his was one of the mangled bodies cast into unknown 
 and dishonored graves. 
 
 Hellen. Heavens! Was there no one to disssuade him from" such a 
 useless, desperate venture ? Why, sir, why did you not ? You say you 
 were his friend. 
 
 Wellford. None more dear had he ; but what could be expected from 
 a man whose affianced bride had proved false ? 
 
 Hellen {indignantly). Sir ! 
 
 Wellford. On the eve of that desperate adventure, Parke received a 
 letter from his younger brother Henry Parke (Henry Parke appears 
 at hack listening), announcing his own betrothal to Hellen Blair. 
 
 Hellen. Oh, no! Master Wellford; Henry, though not of a noble 
 nature like his brother, could never have been guilty of such terrible 
 falsehood and treason. Impossible,' {Hisvng). 
 
 Wellford {shoioing letter). As Albert's friend, 'twas my duty to 
 examine his effects. Behold the proof. 
 
 Hellen {reads). 
 
 Dearest Brother, — In the full flush of thy bright fame, 
 the 7iews I have to tell thee will not be so unwelcome as it might have 
 been to the unknown student that thou wert; for surely the brightest 
 beauty at court would gladly accept the brilliant Col. Parke, who brought 
 the neios of Oudenarde to the Queen. Know, then that our old rivalry 
 is at an e?id. Hellen has discovered that her heart wes really mine, and 
 so, dearest Brother, thou shall return to embrace a sister instead of a 
 bride. Thine lovingly, 
 
 Henry Parke. 
 
 God of heaven ! Can humanity conceive the thought ! Am I awake, 
 or is this some frightful dream ? No, there are the words in. his own 
 handwriting. What a fiend, to betray a brother to death, and take his 
 
16 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 bride! {Tears letter). God of vengeance, give me words to curse the 
 wretch, and bring down some terrible doom, on his head. 
 
 [Bell tolls. Exit Parke.] 
 
 Wellford. Blasphemer ! That signal rebukes thee. Know that there 
 are those who believe that Parke still lives. 
 
 Hellen. Oh, sir, say those blessed words again, and the curse shall Ije 
 changed to an humble prayer. 
 
 Wellford. Kise, poor sufferer, that faint hope may be yours; but if 
 Albert lives he is l;)ut a poor, proscribed exile, without friends or home, 
 with a price set on his head. But calm yourself, for the signal for 
 prayers will bring everybody to this room. 
 
 The Major Domo lights candles in eandelabras. The organ playing a 
 low anthem. The Dramatis PsRSONiE enter severally. Servants 
 range themselves at back; Hangers on corridor, (^c, (^c. As Dr. 
 Blair opens book a noise is heard. 
 
 Sir A. PbOger Martin, see who dares to interrupt us. 
 Roger M. General, the Sheriff of the Grand Court of Inquest comes 
 to arrest a culprit. 
 
 Enter the Sherif and tivo Balifs. 
 
 Sheriff. I must humbly beg your Excellency's pardon, but I have a 
 warrant for the immediate arrest of a person calling himself Henry 
 Wellford. 
 
 Several. The tutor ! 
 
 Sir A. Silence, all. Sheriff, what is the charge against Wellford? 
 
 Sheriff. First, that he has assumed the name and drawn the money of 
 a gentleman in Scotland; second, that he is an attainted traitor. 
 
 Henry Parke. Your Excellency, here is a letter from the real Henry 
 Wellford, who is my kinsman; only ask this bold imposter if the hand- 
 writing is his. 
 
 Wellford. It is not. 
 
 Sir A. What! Master Wellford, certainly you can meet this charge. 
 Have you no friend ? 
 
 Wellford. Not one. \_A little boy comes np ctnd takes his hand.] ■ 
 
 0' Clare. Stop, tutor, devil a bit will I see a man without any friend 
 at all, and here's my hand. And you need not scowl at me, Mr. Harry 
 Parke. Remember what I saw down by the garden wall. 
 
 Barke. [Half draioing). Insolent fellow ! 
 
 Sir A. How dare you, sir? Here, Roger Martin, arrest these two 
 men. 
 
THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 17 
 
 0' Clare. One moment, General. You must know that the other 
 evening, down behind the garden, I was looking at the water-fowl flying 
 over the river to roost, when all at once I heard something just like your 
 carving-knife when you put it on the steel at dinner; and, running up 
 the path, there I beheld two gentlemen tilting at each other, luno-e and 
 luno;, boot and boot — 
 
 Wdlford. Sir, I charge you on your honor as a gentleman — 
 
 0' Clare. Be easy, tutor. No sooner did I see that. General, than I 
 whipped out my rapier to part them; but I thank heaven. Dr. Blair, my 
 christian charity got the better of my temper, and I pushed it back, and 
 says I, "Get back, you little meddling blackguard; sure it isn't an 
 O'Olare that would be after spoiling such a game as that." But the 
 words were hardly out, when something comes sailing way over like a 
 rocket, and what do you suppose it was ? 
 
 All What? 
 
 0' Clare. Why, the diamond-hilted rapier, that the gentleman is so 
 mighty anxious to draw. 
 
 Sir A. Silence, all. Sheriff, take your prisoner. 
 
 Tableau. 
 Curtain. 
 
 ACT 11. 
 
 SCENE I. — Street in front of Be. Blair'vS house. Door and steps, c; 
 
 Wicket-gate l. 
 
 Enter Wellfoed, O'Claee and Jaevis, l, 
 
 Wellford. Here, kind friends, we must part, for before the day dawns 
 
 I would be far beyond the town on my way to Germana settlement. 
 
 There I trust to find an old friend among the Monmouth refugees, and 
 
 with him I shall find an asylum till fortune sends better times. But, 
 
 3 
 
18 THE GOLDEN IIOESESHOE. 
 
 Capt. O'Olare, let me know to whom I am indeljted besides yourself and 
 the Scout ? 
 
 0' Clare. No, my dear sir, that's a secret, and whenever I speak about 
 it, mum must be the word. I couldn't tell it to you without your finding 
 out what it is, could I ? Don't you see that, Coonskin ? 
 
 Nick. Just as plain as a bar's back tooth. 
 
 G Clare. But you smile, and I'm glad of it. (Shakes hands). It 
 isn't good-bye yet. Come to the Raleigh tavern yonder; I must give 
 you a pass to get through the patrol guards. And don't forget when 
 you want friends and money, here's two of the first, and as for the 
 second, I'll lend you my last guinea, even if I have to borrow it. But 
 it won't do to be Henry Wellford any more. Call yourself somebody 
 else, and don't let anybody know that you are the person that you pre- 
 tended to be. 
 
 Wellford. My dear friend, for I take the privilege now of calling you 
 so, have I not explained that — 
 
 0' Clare. My boy, I understand it perfectly ; I only want to keep you 
 out of the clutches of that cantankerous fellow, Parke. Hey, Coonskin ? 
 
 JSfick. True as a catechism. When I see his durned pretty face about, 
 I expect to hear somebody holler ''Weasel in the hen-house;" that's the 
 sort of varmint he is. 
 
 Wellford, I only wish to assure you that I have a right to the name 
 I have borne, and after the money I drew was paid, there was no crimi- 
 nal charge; yet the suspicion, and this man's persecution are enough to 
 make me follow your advice. I shall, therefore, after reaching Germana, ^ 
 adopt some other cognomen, which I trust will have no duplicates; 
 but I shall take the by-roads, as the Scout directs, or else the Governor's 
 army will soon overtake me on their march. 
 
 0' Clare. To be sure; the new volunteers meet us at Germana. 
 
 Mek. We start at eight o'clock this mornin, school master, but it's my 
 idee that it'll be a good thirty days afore we reach them there moun- 
 tains, even if the Injuns don't bother us. And why? Because soon 
 as you get in the upper country, the bosses' feet will get sore travellin 
 on the rocks. 
 
 Wellford. Surely the Governor should have had the forethought to 
 have his horses shod. 
 
 Niek. Now, Schoolmaster, who ever heard on a horse with shoes? 
 
 0' Clare. I've seen 'em, Coonskin, but it was only dragoon horses, in 
 the old country. 
 
 Wellford. In this low^ sandy country, with soft roads, 'tis not necces- 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE, 19 
 
 • 
 sary, but all horses for general military service in the field should be 
 
 shod with iron. 
 
 O Clare. Let us talk of this at the tavern; come. 
 
 Wdlford. In a half-hour I must leave you. [Exit R.] 
 
 Nick. Capt. Clare, I don't believe in killin anything but varmints and 
 Injuns, but I wish you had let the School-master pink that Harry Parke. 
 'Twould have saved so much trouble, and he'd have made such a pretty 
 carcass for Dr. Blar to preach over. 
 
 G Clare. Coonskin, for a man who isn't a gentleman, you are the best 
 fellow I ever saw. 
 
 Nick. And, Capt. 'Clare, for a man who is a gentleman, you're the 
 best man I ever seed. [Exeunt R.] 
 
 Enter Parke and Wenonga, l. 
 
 ■ Wenonga. Why have you brought me here ? 
 
 Parke. To give you a convincing reason for following my advice. 
 'Tis one thing, Chief, to say a thing, quite another to prove it. I will 
 prove to you in twenty minutes that 'tis your necessity, as well as your 
 interest, to be guided by me. 
 
 Wenonga. Speak, then, in Heaven's name. 
 
 Parke. Then listen. You have promised to guide the Governor's 
 expedition into the valley beyond the mountains, and in return he is to 
 make you King over all the Western tribes, subject only to the Colonial 
 Vice-PbCgency. Now, I happen to know that if the Governor fails, his 
 already waning favor at Court is gone, and he will only be Governor 
 until the commission of his successor can arrive. 
 
 Wenonga. And who will that be? 
 
 Parke. He stands before you. You seem wonder-struck. Before 
 asking yqur confidence, I will prove my sincerity by giving you mine. 
 Now, as for the Governor's promise to you, don't you see that it amounts 
 to nothing ? When the tutor proposed that plan to settle the valley 
 with the followers who volunteer, he seized the idea at once, without 
 caring for his promise to you. Where are the Indians to live if these 
 military adventurers cover the fairest of the land with immense grants ? 
 
 Wenonga. I never thought of that. 
 
 Parke. Think of it now, my friend; 'tis your interest as well as mine 
 
 I have in view. - See you yonder window ? Since childhood I have 
 
 • watched it as some fond dreamer watches the star which typefies his destiny; 
 
 for in that chamber is the one woman for whom I would give the world ; 
 
 to win whom has been the object of ten years of boyish courting, and 
 
20 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 five of manhood's scheming. The women of your race yield to love ; 
 those of ours to wealth and power; and if I claim the lady's hand as the 
 Governor of the Colony, if the worst comes to the worst, her father's 
 office depends on my word, and she would sacrifice herself to save him. 
 
 Wenonga. And would you take that pale, beautiful maiden, knowing 
 that her heart is not yours ? 
 
 Parke. You speak like a child. A pure woman must love the father 
 of her children — 'tis nature's law. But to the point : As the Governor, 
 I promise you ten times what Sir Alexander offers. Start not; if the 
 army were ambuscaded in the mountain pass — 
 
 Wenonga. You pause. What next ? 
 
 Parke. Wenonga, I have heard that the men of the Shawnees were 
 so careful of the virtue of their women, that those guilty of wantonness 
 are subjected to the ordeal of fire. 
 
 Wenonga. It is true; but what has this to do with the matter? 
 
 Parke. Your sister, who lives here with Hellen Blair; — did you ever 
 see her speak to Col. John Spotswood ? 
 
 Wenonga. Never; why should she ? 
 
 Parke. Now, my dear friend, control yourself, and remember that 
 should you find any reason to strike Col. Spotswood, the surest method 
 of revenge would be to destroy this same expedition. Do nothing 
 hastily; and remember that the Ptangers are patrolling the streets. 
 Look through that wicket, and you will see Col. John Spotswood stand- 
 ing under your sister's window. He is to carry her off before day- 
 break. 
 
 Wenonga. Okee! 
 
 Parke. Who's he? 
 
 Wenonga. The Spirit whom the white men call devil, but the red 
 men call a god. 
 
 Parke. Why, Wenonga, where's your Christianity ? 
 
 Wenonga. If this be true, Wenonga is again the child of the woods, 
 and his name means in your tongue, Panther. 
 
 Parke. Calm yourself, and remember that the Eangers are patrolling 
 the streets, and anything done now would be discovered at once. Be 
 sure my plan is the wisest. Conceal yourself in the shrubbery yonder, 
 and when I put out this light Spotswood will whistle ; at that signal she 
 will come down to him. Be careful, I say. {Exit Wenonga through 
 gate). That savage only needs a little more civilization to make him a 
 respectable criminal of the first rank. 'Tis the Indian nature, however, 
 to prefer sneaking treachery to open, manly revenge; so my friend, 
 Jack, is in no immediate danger. He deserves any fate for making a 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 21 
 
 friend watch while he carries off his wench. Now, by this trifling sac- 
 rifice of a friend, I accomphsh more than years of honest labor could 
 achieve. [Puts out street lamp). And after all, there's a certain dia- 
 bolical pleasure in doing evil for its own sake. ( Whistle ivithout). Hark ! 
 how the bird calls his mate, little thinking that the hawk is in the bush. 
 A pretty office, forsooth* to put a friend to play sentinel, while he is 
 billing with his red and yellow wood-pecker. 
 
 Unter Col. John SroTswooD. 
 
 Col. S. Parke, the devil is to pay; the patrol guard is in the College 
 grounds, right between me and my horses. Keep the girl till I run to 
 the barracks and send an orderly to bring them off. 
 
 Parke. Thunder! man, the wench would not stay with me a minute; 
 she hates me as she does the devil. 
 
 Col. S. Then take my cloak and hat, and she'll think it's me in the 
 dark. (Gives cloak and hat, taking Parke's). There, .go through the 
 gate, and you'll find her under the third window. [Uxit, L.] 
 
 Parke. And be locked in the arms «f a copper-colored beauty, on a 
 mere plea of mistaken identity? Not a step do I stir. Ah, Master 
 Jack Spotswood, for this you deserve anything, and my last qualm of 
 conscience is extinguished. (Wenonga enters stealthily, stabs Parke, 
 and exit L.) Fool ! idiot ! clog ! you've struck the wrong man. Help, 
 murder ! [Falls on steps.] 
 
 Enter Wellford, r. 
 
 Wellford. A cry of murder! It seemed to be just here. Great 
 Heavens ! a man lying on the Doctor's steps. [Bends over Parke. En- 
 ter Hellen, c, and. holds light over them). 
 
 PLellen. Henry Parke, and, and — 
 
 Parke {rising on elbow). And the assassin, my enemy, the infernal 
 tutor. (Wellford stands aghast, unable to speak. Enter Patrol 
 Guards). 
 
 Tableau. 
 
 Scene closes. 
 
22 THE GOLDEN IIOrvSESHOE. 
 
 SCENE II. — A Corridor in tlio Governor's Palace. Drums heard 
 
 within. 
 
 Enter Hellen and Tomana, l. 
 
 Hellen. Major, you are too well bred to aglc why I am out so early. 
 Has his Excellency heard of Mr. Parke's being wounded ? 
 
 Tomana. Yes, madam, but the General and the staff are about to 
 mount, and he said nothing to me on that matter. 
 
 Hellen. Is Col. John Spotswood in the palace ? 
 
 Tomana. He is, madam. 
 
 Hellen. Find him, Major, and say I wish to see him here. [Exit To- 
 MAMA, R.) If I can but make up my mind to overleap the bounds of 
 delicacy, and speak plainly and boldly, I may pierce the secret of this 
 dreadful deed. And heaven forbid that false modesty should withhold 
 me from an effort to save him. Henry Parke's evidence would certainly 
 convict him before any court of law. What a fate, to be persecuted 
 both by enemies and by fortune. 
 
 Enter Col. John Spotswood. 
 
 Col. S. Good morning, Mistress Hellen; if the old Major had ever 
 made a mistake in his life, I should think he had made another now, and 
 that it was my sister, and not me, for whom you called. 
 
 Hellen. No, Colonel, I called for you. Sir, it is in your power to save 
 an unfortunate gentleman, who is wrongfully accused of a crime. 
 
 Col. S. Ah, I understand; of course you mean the tutor; but how 
 can I save him? 
 
 Hellen. The guards who have him prisoner are immediately under 
 your command. 
 
 Col. S. They are ; but it is for a civil court to try him. 
 
 Hellen. In which case he will be condemned. 
 
 Col. S. From what I hear, there is little doubt of that. 
 
 Hellen. And will you see an innocent man condemned, when, without 
 risk to yourself, you can save him ? 
 
 Col. S. His guilt, or innocence, is a question for a court, not me, to 
 decide. But what is your interest in this stranger ? 
 
 Hellen. The interest which all good people feel in the friendless and 
 unfortunate. 
 
 Col. S. Very nobly spoken. Mistress Hellen ; but suppose I acknow- 
 ledge the justice of what you say, how could I help the tutor? 
 
 Hellen. By allowing him to esca,pe. 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 23 
 
 Col. S. Great God, Madam ! Would you propose to me to violate my 
 honor as an officer ? 
 
 Hellen. Nay, I would propose to you to retrieve your honor as a 
 gentleman. 
 
 Col. S. Madam ! 
 
 Hdlen. Sir, answer me on your honor as a gentleman and a soldier, 
 as one who boasts himself of the the best and most ancient blood of Scot- 
 land, do you believe Wellford guilty of this crime ? Nay, do you not 
 yt/ioio that he is innocent ? You hesitate; but let me ask another. Do 
 you not know that the blow was intended for Col. John Spotswood ? 
 For, remember, that Mr. Parke wore your cloak and hat. 
 
 Col. S. You propound questions, madam, which I have the right, 
 without violating the rules of politeness, to decHne to answer; and I do 
 so with the utmost respect, regretting that you cannot ask me a service 
 without suggesting a violation of my duty as an officer. 
 
 Hellen. This is trifling, sir; and you only affect to misunderstand me. 
 There is a higher law than the mere social codes which govern society, 
 or those which kings and parliaments make; and that is the great law 
 which forbids wrong to your fellow man. And I say to you solemnly, 
 that if you have done anything to cause that murder, you commit a 
 double crime in being the cause of the deed, and then refusing to save 
 the innocent man who is accused. But you will do this, forsooth, sooner 
 than violate your honor as an officer, as you call it. 
 
 Col. S. I shall certainly not allow a prisoner to escape when my duty 
 is to turn him over to the civil authorities. 
 
 Hellen. Who, you know positively, will condemn him at once. 
 
 Col. 8. That is their affair. 
 
 Hellen. No, sir, it is your affair. I said I asked you to retrieve your 
 honor, not to violate it. Let your own conscience ■ ask you, who is the 
 primary cause of this deed and its consequences ? Was this same sense 
 of honor of yours, which sticks at the violation of official duty to save 
 an innocent man, always so sensitive ? Since how many hours is it be- 
 come so immaculate, forsooth? 
 
 Col. 8. Madam you fling out insinuations, which, allow me to say, 
 come strangely from a lady. 
 
 Hellen. Sir, I have said nought unbecoming a modest gentlewoman. 
 I tell you again, if you are the cause of this frightful night's work, 'tis 
 your duty, by that higher law of justice and truth, to save this man 
 even at the sacrifice of yourself, or else you cause a second murder, 
 worse than the first. What a pitiful piece of sophistry, to plead an 
 official oath in extenuation of a murder ! Once for all, why did Henry 
 Parke wear your hat and cloak ? 
 
24 THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 
 
 Col. S. Madam, you forget to whom you speak. Eemember that you 
 are a minister's daughter, and blush to be rebuked by a man. 
 
 Hellen. Sir, you forget to whom you speak. Eemember that you are 
 a soldier's son, and that the escutcheon there on that wall, unsullied 
 through long generations, but reminds you of your own degeneracy. 
 By the principles which your sires have professed, there can be no 
 perfect courage in the soldier whose honor as a gentleman is not stainless. 
 Look into your heart and into your actions for the last three months 
 and say have you those qualities which every man under your command 
 expects in you. And look in the face of your prisoner, whom you are 
 about to sacrifice to your own safety, and you will acknowledge your 
 superior. Dare such as you to tell me to blush ? Son of the knighthood 
 of Scotland, blush to be rebuked by a woman. 
 
 Col. 8. I'll hear no more of this, madam. I scorn your insinuations. 
 {Trumpets sound). Our trumpets sound to horse, and the Governor 
 and all the officers are waiting for me. Farewell until you are in a bet- 
 ter mood. 
 
 Hdlen. Stay, sir; I demand by every rule of right and justice, that 
 you shall save this gentleman ; do you refuse ? 
 
 Col: S. I do, positively. 
 
 Hellen. Then, by Heaven ! you shall answer a charge, instead of scorn- 
 ing an insinuation. From yonder balcony I will proclaim to the assem- 
 bled officers and gentlemen that Sir Alexander Spotswood's son, heir of 
 his fortune, his title and his name, has betrayed the sister of his father's 
 friend and guest. 
 
 Col. 8. (aside). The Devil ! That ever a man should be brought to 
 this; and all for following the demons of wine and women. Mistress Hel- 
 len, you've stunned me, but I've come to again, more myself than I've 
 been these six months. You can't understand how, one fault done, 
 others must follow and follow, till we sink so low we can barely feel 
 shame. But I have not a moment, for the troops must be marching 
 even now. Trust this tutor to me — he's a happy fellow to have such a 
 friend as you — and I will not only save him, but I will be his friend. 
 Nay, do not mistrust me, I will place a paper in your hand which, if it 
 is necessary to use, will exonerate him as far as in my power lies. I 
 wish I could ask your forgiveness, but wait till I redeem my word. 
 
 Hellen. You have it already with all my heart. (Hxit Col. S., l.) 
 Now all my strength is gone, and I can only thank heaven that he is 
 saved and saved by me. [Mai^ch played in the distance.^ . 
 
 Enter Kate Spotswood, e. 
 Kcite, Hellen, Hellen, I shall never laugh again. I've tried to per- 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 25 
 
 suade O'Clare that I didn't care for him all this time, and now at the 
 last moment I find I do. 
 
 Enter Lady Spotswood and O'Clare, r. 
 
 G Clare. Come, fair ladies, the Eev. Doctor has read the service to 
 the ''Tramontane Order," and the Eangers are marching by. From 
 yonder balcony you may see them. [^Exeunt l.] 
 
 [Scene opens and shoivs the courtyard. Balcoiiies R. & l., filled with 
 Ladies withioreaths. The Governor and Staff c. Knights of the " Tra- 
 mo7itane Order," and Square Banner; Colonial Banner 7^.; Brstish 
 Ensign l.; Two llinisters in hlack standing on steps, l.; Bangers 
 inarching at 6aeZ:.] 
 
 Tableau. 
 Curtain. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. — An Outpost of the Colonial Army in a narrow Mountain 
 Pass, by Moonlight. A Bivouac of Eangers at back, and a 
 Sentry on post. 
 
 CoL. John Spotswood lying down infroyit. 
 
 Col. S. At last, after toilsome marches, we have reached these moun- 
 tains, and by good luck find the pass unguarded; at least so Wenonga 
 reports. And, so far, all seems to go well. Yet an irresistible present- 
 iment of disaster possesses me. Wenonga stands at my father's side, 
 his guide and his fiiend, trusted implicitly; and if he meditates treason, 
 he certainly has a terrible opportunity. Still I dare not say a word to 
 Sir" Alexander. {Calling) Sentry, have you heard anything in front? 
 
 Wellford {at hack). Nothing, your Honor; save the constant scream of 
 the panther, all is still as death. 
 
 Col. S. As still as death. I would I could shake off this feeling or 
 premonition, that fairly mades a coward of me. Here, Sentry. (Well- 
 ford advances and salutes.) This is tlie first time I have spoken to you 
 4 
 
26 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE, 
 
 since I clianged you from a prisoner to a soldier; I must say that you 
 make a better ranger than tutor, and I congratulate you. For the rest, 
 the metamorphose from Master Wellford to the dashing Eanger Clifford, 
 is so remarkable, that I have no fears of discovery. I would fain ask 
 where you learned to be such a perfect soldier, but you may have reasons 
 for reserve, which I shall respect. {Rising) There is one question, 
 however, which I have the right to ask; [giving him his hand,) but I 
 shall ask it as a gentleman and a friend, not as your officer. 
 
 Wellford. And it shall be answered, though the doing so placed my 
 reputation, life and hopes in your hands. To save a man from death is 
 service which might be repaid ; to save him from disgrace and dishonor, 
 is one which could only be acknowledged; and even if it could be re- 
 paid, believe me, I would prefer to have the obligation remain; for I 
 hold him of a mean nature who would play the miser with his grat- 
 itude. 
 
 Col. S. Master Wellford, I have marked your bearing in the skirmishes 
 of late, and might well have admired your courage, but that is some- 
 thing which I can understand. What I cannot understand, is the calm, 
 unwavering fortitude with which you have faced misfortunes, before 
 which any man I ever saw before must at least have flinched. Is it 
 religion ? You seem to be no fanatic. I know not which to call you, a 
 great martyr or a great criminal. 
 
 Wellford. Neither. Since boyhood I have trod those paths of adven- 
 ture — to use a light name — which, to the thoughtless and foolish, teach 
 recklessness and crime, but to some teach a sublime faith. If I have 
 done ought which the world's laws pronounce crime, it has been the 
 result of cruel fate and unfortunate circumstances. But this plea is 
 nothing either to society or law. On the decks of these Eovers that 
 swarm over the seas and fill the world with tales of cruelty and crime, 
 in the history of many a hardened wretch, you would find a youth, brave, 
 honest and generous, whom the world had kicked and disgraced for 
 some petty offence; and the very sensitiveness which characterizes a 
 generous heart, was the thing which made him what he is. 
 
 Col. S. And you are one of these ? 
 
 Wellford. No. The plea which I have urged for others, I would urge 
 for myself; but I have never been weak enough to act from low motives. 
 For safety, or for. ambition, or profit, or even from revenge, I could 
 never have conceived the idea of striking a fellow creature. I have 
 learned in misfortune itself to read a lesson. 
 
 Col. S. A sublime faith. But I should not have taken you for what 
 we call a church member, 
 
THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 27 
 
 Wdlford. I am not; tlioiigli I accept tlie christian faitli; I read its 
 divine principles at a higher shrine tlian altars made by man. 
 
 Col. S. And that? 
 
 Wellford. Is the great dome over our heads, where millions of worlds 
 proclaim the God of beauty and love. 
 
 Col. 8. You are a strange man, indeed. But 'twas not on such ques- 
 tions I wished to claim your confidence. Two weeks ago our horses all 
 broke down, and the little army, scattered over ten miles of trackless 
 forest, might have been cut off at any moment. And all because none 
 of us had thought of having our steeds shod for the march. 
 
 Wellford. I had wondered that your father, an old dragoon, had not 
 foreseen that the horses could not travel barefoot in the rocky hills as 
 in the sandy low country. All horses for military service should be 
 shod. 
 
 Col. S. To be sure ; but to the point. When the Governor, in despair, 
 was about to turn back and give up his long projected enterprise, a 
 Pbanger slipped into his hand a note, which suggested the simple plan of 
 forging our wagon tires into horseshoes, and four days afterwards we 
 could resume our march. Now, sir, are you not that Eanger who offered 
 that suggestion ? 
 
 Wellford. I am. 
 
 Col. S. Then you must know that the Governor has changed the 
 badge of the "Tramontane Order" to a Golden Horseshoe. The 
 motto, " 8ic juvat transcendere monies ;" and his dearest hope, next to 
 the success of this expedition, is to find and reward the individual to 
 whom he is so much indebted. Now, my dear sir, let me have the 
 pleasure of leading you to him and saying, here is the man to whom 
 you have been twice indebted, and he is a soldier and a gentleman, who 
 can wear with grace and credit any honor you bestow. 
 
 Wellford. Impossible. 
 
 Col. 8. And why ? 
 
 Wellford. Henry Parke has asserted that I was his murderer, and 
 whether he recovers or not, I have not the means to rebut his evidence. 
 
 Col. 8. And do you divine his motive for this persecution ? 
 
 Wellford. In part I do. We have met before, long years ago, and I 
 have cause to dread his hatred, which will not hesitate even at perjury 
 and cold blooded murder. 
 
 Col. 8. Damn the fellow ! He had deceived me completely and won 
 my confidence and regard. But I can meet his assertion, for I know 
 positively that Wenonga was the assassin, and the blow was intended for 
 me. 
 
28 The golden eobseshoe. 
 
 Wellford. For you ? And the enemy of the son is nOw the father's 
 adviser and friend. 
 
 Col. S. Even so, my dear sir ; and what thinly you of that ? 
 
 Wellford. My dear Colonel, you surprise and alarm me. The Chief 
 must meditate some treachery. 
 
 Col. S. You echo my own fears. 
 
 Wellford. He passed this post this evening just as we camped, and • 
 showed the Governor's signet ring. With that he can give any. orders 
 in the Governor's name. Ever since dark the forest has resounded with 
 the cry of the whippoorwill and the scream of the panther. Now, you 
 certainly are aware. Colonel, that Indians, when managing a surprise, 
 substitute the whistle of birds and the cries of animals for the warwhoop. 
 Hark ! [Father scremns.] 
 
 Col. iS. But if the savages are surrounding us, they would not attack 
 till our camp fires are out and our men asleep. 
 
 Wellford. On the contrary. Colonel, they will attack while the camp 
 fires afibrd them a mark for their arrows. 
 
 [TrumjM aivay in the distance.^ 
 
 Sergeant (at hack). Third relief take post. 
 
 [Wellford walks up stage and salutes relief sentinel.'] 
 
 Col. S. Sergeant, this ranger goes with me; I will send you another 
 in his place. Keep a sharp lookout, and send a vidette forward pres- 
 ently. We fear the savages meditate a night attack. 
 
 Sergeant. Very well, your Honor. 
 
 Col. S. My dear friend, here ,we are in the very jaws of the pass, 
 and a surprise would be fatal. You, who are so ready with expedients, 
 what do you suggest ? 
 
 Col. S. Simply to urge the Governor to abandon the warfare which 
 suits cavalry in the open plains of Europe, and to take the enemy on 
 their own tactics which alone suit the woods. 
 
 Col. S. Most wisely said, but how to persuade my father. 
 
 Wellford. You are second in command. If necessary, draw back a 
 part of our force and attack the lurking savages by skirting around the 
 mountain side. 
 
 Col. S. My dear sir, they would be twenty to our one. 
 
 Wellford. Let them be fifty to one; our arms are superior, and as for 
 odds, may God be praised, history has no record of a field where any 
 race of men in fair fight could stand against the warlike Englishman; 
 and in this Western world. Heaven intends him to be the conqueror. 
 
 Col. S.. Nobly spoken. Master Wellford, but to-night I am but half a 
 man. I am overcome by a premonition of misfortune. 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 29 
 
 Wellford. A fig for premonitions; the enemy is near, let fear and 
 hesitation to the rear, and in front let ns bear such resolute hearts that 
 at the first assault these savages shall feel their masters, 
 
 \_Exev/iit, L.] 
 
 Sentry [at hack). Halt! Who goes there? 
 
 Wenonga [toithout). Wenonga. 
 
 Sentry. Pass, Wenonga. 
 
 [Wenonga enters, in dumb slioio, gives orders to the Sergeant, showing 
 the Governor s ring. The Sergeant assembles the picket guard and 
 takes them off l. u. e. Wenonga looks in different directions, list- 
 ening. Trumpet sounds in the distance as before. Tie bends his 
 boiv, lights the head of an arrow in the fire, at back, and shoots in 
 the air. Signal fires are lighted all around the mountain side. 
 Wenonga waves his hand; two Indians appear at back. Enter 
 Wellfoed, l. 2d E. As the Indians are about to rush on him 
 he presents his carbine. 
 
 Tableau. 
 Scene closes. 
 
 SCENE II.— The Front of the Governor's Tent. 
 
 Enter Sir Alexander, O'Clare, Brent a7id Eoger Martin from 
 
 the tent. 
 
 Sir A. Gentlemen, to-morrow we shall see the sun rise on that beauti- 
 ful valley which is the object of all our hopes; and when we have estab- 
 lished two block'house forts strong enough to hold our conquered domain, 
 we will march merrily back to our sweethearts and wives, and next 
 spring will come forward again and push our English posts even to the 
 bank of the great river, two hundred miles beyond; and if the d — d 
 Frenchmen think that they are to have any of this great and glorious 
 land, why, I'm only glad that we shall meet better adversaries than half 
 naked savages. But I have written to the Kev. Doctor to cause a golden 
 horseshoe, set with rubies, to be wrought for each of our bold knights; 
 and that, henceforth, shall be the badge of the ''Tramontane Order." 
 How glad would I be to find that ranger who gave us the idea. 
 
 0' Clare. Faith, General, that same ranger saved us, for we just got 
 ready in time not to be too late. If the Indians had caught us scat- 
 tered through the woods, as we had been, nursing sore-footed steeds, it's 
 
30 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 my opinion that tlie last one of us would have been scaliDC cl, and we 
 could only have gone back to the sweethearts and wives and said that 
 everybody had been killed, and none left to tell the tale. 
 
 Brent. But, General, it seems strange that the savages should have 
 attacked us a week ago in the Horseshoe Camp, and ther. suddenly 
 drawn off and left the pass unguarded. 
 
 Roger Martin. Why, General, they had enough of it that day. But 
 I only wish you would always let our trumpets and kettle-drums sound 
 the charge, or the recall, or to deploy as foragers, or whfotever's to be 
 done, for I don't like to go into a fight without the proper calls sounded, 
 no more than a christian man to eat his dinner without a grace. 
 
 Sir A. Ah, you old war-dog ! Well did Marlbrook teach his soldiers 
 that to fight was to win ; for he is the only great Captain the world ever 
 saw that never lost a battle. But this is different warfare from all 
 those glorious fields, and it behooves us to be wary. , But, gentlemen, 
 where can Wenonga be ? I trust to him entirely for information. I 
 wonder he is not here. 
 
 O^ Clare. General, it must be because he is somewhere else. 
 
 Brent. O'Clare, you always see farther than anybody else. But, Gen- 
 eral, here's the Scout. 
 
 Enter Nick Jarvis, l. . , 
 
 Sir A. Why, Scout, what's the matter? You look like a drowned 
 rat. 
 
 Nick. And I feel like a skinned rabbit. [To Martin.) Old man, 
 hold me up till I catch my wind. Governor, I'm come to tell you that 
 .you're a gone coon. The Injuns have treed you. 
 
 All. What? 
 
 Nick. Your pet yaller cat, Wenonga, has brung you into this holler 
 purpose to scalp us all. I smell yaller niggers all around us now. 
 
 Sir A. The Devil! 
 
 Nick. That's just what I say. 
 
 Sir A. But how do you know this ? Be quick. 
 
 Nick. As the man said to the turtle he was bettin on. Well, General, 
 do you see that there big mountain ? I was standin on top of it at 
 sundown, studyin wliar the sun went to when she goes down, and way 
 to the South I see a white cloud of smoke go right up straight into the 
 element; and in the West another came up out of a deep holler, and in 
 the North another start up off of a ridge ; and then I looks to the East- 
 and what you reckon I seed ? 
 
 Sir A. Another pillar of smoke? 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 31 
 
 Nick. A yaller and green squarpion seven foot high. 
 
 Brent. The Devil ! 
 
 Nick. So it was. 
 
 8ir A. Scout, this is trifling ; come to the point at once. 
 
 Nick. That's what we did, General; there was the Injun, painted and 
 iled all over, right facin me, and her settin agin a tree ten steps off. 
 
 Sir A. Her ? who's her ? 
 
 Nick. My gun. The Injun fetches me a wallup on my gourd with 
 his club. Governor, did you ever see two cats fightin? Well, some- 
 times you think they are fighting when they ar'n't. A cat is a funny 
 varmint. "Well, then, we had it, my two claws in his wizen, and his two 
 hold of my har, — blessed if I didn't think my sculp was gone. Down 
 the mountain we rolled, over an over, and busted into a branch; and 
 then, thinks I, Nick Jarvis, you'll never roast no more oysters agin the 
 chimney corner, nor run gals in the whortleberry bushes. Then I 
 didn't know nothin. And when I come to, minnows was nibblin at my 
 ears, and that Injun didn't know whether he was choked to death or 
 drownded. 
 
 Sir A. But what has this to do with Wenonga ? 
 
 Nick. Lordee, Governor, you ar'n't got no more suspiciousness than a 
 suckin goslin. Them four fires means four tribes of yaller niggers- 
 Here's what I took off of that Injun's carcase. (Shows two pieces of 
 white harlc). Don't you know Wawassett, the Chief of the Tuscaroras, 
 means Standin Bar ? Thar's his picter with his love letter. 
 
 0' Clare. And Wenonga means Leaping Panther. 
 
 Sir A. and Brent. So it does. 
 
 Nick. Thar's his visitin card. 
 
 Sir A. Great Heavens ! Gentlemen, we must be on the lookout. P^o- 
 ger Martin, order the outposts to be doubled. 
 
 Enter a P^angee, e. 
 
 Banger. General, Capt. Brooke sends me to report that the pickets 
 have been withdrawn by order of the young Chief. 
 
 Sir A. Thunder and lightning ! And the traitor has my signet. 
 What else ? 
 
 Banger. The Captain ordered me to say to your Honor that he has 
 just caught an Indian in the woods, and that many of them have been 
 seen right up to the camp. 
 
 Sir A. Tell Capt. Brooke to send me that prisoner at once. Stay, let 
 him bring the prisoner to the centre of our camp, where he wiU find 
 
32 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE, 
 
 me. {Exit Eanger, r.) Koger Martin, set our two banners in tlie 
 centre of the camp, and that shall be our rallying point. Let the 
 trumpets sound the ''General/' and our men will all understand that it 
 is the signal to form. 
 
 Brent. General, had we not better retire a little out of the narrow 
 pass. 
 
 Sir A. Not an inch. Here will we fight it out, O'Clare, come with 
 me; and you, Capt. Brent and Jarvis, remain here, and tell all messen- 
 gers that I will return directly. \_Excunt L.] 
 
 Nick. Captain Brent, I ar'n't carin so long as I can see how to pint 
 her. [An arrow passes through the tent.^ 
 
 Ca,pt. Brent. What's that ? 
 
 Nick. Another visitin card. 
 
 [Enter an Officer, r. 
 
 Off. Where is the General? The savages are creeping on the camp 
 from all sides, and we are surrounded. 
 
 Nick. We know all that. {Putting out lights.) This is the way to 
 fight yaller niggers; keep 'em from seein you. 
 
 [Shots heard. Officers enter r. & l.] 
 
 Officers! Where is the General ? What are the orders ? &c., &c. 
 
 Enter Wellford, r. 
 
 Wellford. Where's the General ? 
 
 Brent. The General is in the centre of the camp, giving his orders. 
 
 Wellford. If he is not here, I have his orders. 
 
 Several. By what authority ? - 
 
 Wellford. By this. [Holdijig up signet.] 
 
 Several. A light. ;[Jarvis holds torch to Wellford's /ace.] 
 
 Brent Gentlemen, it is the Governor's ring. What are the orders, 
 Banger ? 
 
 Wellford. Thus the General orders : Let each Captain draw back his 
 men to the skirt of woods East of the camp, keeping his men dismount- 
 ed, with orders to use only their firelocks. Let them lay low, and not 
 fire a shot till the savages occupy the camp. Then while they are plun- 
 dering we will direct our fire by the camp lights; and at the signal, 
 charge; while a party will skirt the mountain side to take them in 
 the rear. 
 
 Several. A good order. 
 
 Wdlford, Away, then, gentlernen, each one to his post; remem.- 
 
THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 33 
 
 ber the Governor's iustructions, and ton minutes will give us a vic- 
 tory. [Trumpets. Exeunt severally.] 
 
 [JVoise of the aetioii heard. Then the scene ojxns, shoioing tlce mountains 
 and camv on fire. Wellford holding the color, and standing over 
 the Governor. Rangers and Indians around.] 
 
 Tahlectu. 
 CuKTAiisr. 
 
 ACT IV, 
 
 SCENE I.— Same as Act II. 
 
 Enter Lady Spotswood and Kate, r., meeting Tomana. 
 
 Lady 8. Major, is tliere no news yet? 
 
 Tomana. No, my Lady, tlie square is full of people, but there's not a 
 soldier in sight. 
 
 Kate S. Mama, the good old Doctor is in his observatory, and he 
 promised to send us the first news; with his great telescope he can see a 
 mile or two beyond the town. 
 
 Lady S. Then, Major, go to the Doctor's oljservatory yonder, and beg 
 him to come to us; and you, take his place and let us know when the 
 army appears on the road. [Exit Tomana, c.) My dear, your father, 
 like a veteran soldier, keeps an eye to the "pride, pomp and circum- 
 stance," and he is waiting to. collect all the stragglers before he marches 
 into his capital. I would he could have brought your brother with him, 
 but, as we hoar, it was safer to leave him in the block-house beyond the 
 mountains until his wound is cured. I trust in Heaven when he re- 
 covers 'twill have proved a wholesome, though a terrible lesson. 
 
 Kate S. Amen ! with all my heart. 
 
 Lady S. But let us think now only of welcoming our victors. The 
 Reception in our Vice E,egal Court of Virginia this night, shall be the 
 most brilliant ever known. {Cannon in the distance.) But Heavens ! 
 What is that ? 
 5 
 
34 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 Kate S. Mama, 'tis the guns of a ship in the river; for I remember 
 when Oapt. Maynard fouglit tlie pirates tlie guns sounded just Hice that. 
 Lady 8. You are right, child, but what can it be now ? 
 
 Enter Dr. Blair, c. 
 
 Lady S. and I^ate. Doctor, wliat is tliis we hear ? 
 
 Dr. B. Your Ladyship, a vessel of war has been beating up the river 
 all the afternoon, and but now, as she tacked and ran into harbor, she 
 hauled the royal ensign to the fore and fired her guns, which means that 
 a royal messsenger is on board. 
 
 Lady S. Now, I trust in Heaven her Majesty has heard of Sir Alex- 
 ander's victory over the Indians. 
 
 Dr. B. Let us hope for the best. At least if the Queen has been 
 over persuaded by his Excellency's enemies at court, his present success 
 will serve to reinstate him in favor. I long to see tho Governor, if only 
 to place in his hand these beautiful badges for his ''Knights of the 
 Golden Horseshoe," for so he declares the order shall be henceforth 
 called. And your Ladyship's own hand must place this one richly set 
 with diamonds, on the breast of our veteran old warrior; and Mistress 
 Kate will easily find some gallant to adorn with another. 
 
 Kate S. Ha, ha, ha; Doctor, believe me, it will require all my filial 
 duty, backed by the maternal command before I put that bauble on 
 O'Clare's neck, and even then I'll make it a badge of petticoat tyranny 
 rather than of a manly s})irit. But where is Hellen? 
 
 Lady S. Yes, good Doctor, where is Hellen ? Do you know I must 
 recant all my accusations against the tutor ? for I think Hellen fancies 
 him more than you would believe, or perhaps like. 
 
 Dr. B. Nay, I leave such matters in the hands of that power wliich 
 controls all destiny; and I do think that the worst way to manage a 
 young woman in matters of love is to order her. 
 
 Lady S. Indeed, Doctor ? 
 
 Kate S. Ah ! What a wise, good old Doctor. Just persuade my mother 
 to that, and then see me snap my fingers at O'Clare, and let him go. 
 
 D. B. My dear, 'twould but give you the trouble of calling him back. 
 But who's this trying to open the gate? 
 
 [Nick Jarvis tries to opcti tlie wicket gate ; then climbs ooer.] 
 
 Lady S. and I^ate. The Scout. 
 
 Dr. B. Why did you come that way, my lad? 
 
 Nick. Your servant, ladies; yours, Dr. Blar. You see I always take 
 short cuts, Besides, do you reckon I'd ever got here if I had come by 
 
fi-IE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 35 
 
 that crowd of folks in the squar yonder ? Doctor, my pony's on your 
 backyard meadow. 
 
 Dr. B. Never mind that; where is the Governor? 
 
 Lady S. And when will he arrive? 
 
 Kate S. Begin at the beginning, Scout. 
 
 Nick. Hadn't I better start at the eend? Well, the Gov'nor will bo 
 here before I'm done answerin all your questions, and so it 'pends on 
 how many you can ask. All his soldiers are scattered for ten miles, one 
 at every cabin and plantation where there's a petticoat. The Gov'nor 
 sends his officers up and down to get 'em all up in a drove, and the 
 officers stops to talk to the gals; and then the Gov'nor stands in the 
 road, sweats and cusses, and, says he. ''Whar's my staff? whar's that 
 d — d young fool, O'Clar ?" Beggin of your pardon, ladies, that's just 
 what he said. 
 
 Dr. B. Well, Scout, what about the battle ? 
 
 Lagy S. Yes, the battle. 
 
 Kate S. The battle, Scout. 
 
 Niek. I'm not good at runnin a back trail, but howsomever, you must 
 know that the Gov'nor got all of us into the holler of the mountains, 
 and he was settin in his tent, and everything lookin peaceful as a ole 
 woman's chimney-corner, when all at once says he, " Gumbo, fetch my 
 big snuff-box, I smell yaller niggers." 
 
 All. What? 
 
 Nick. Injuns. And so it was. Then thar was such a squeelin, shootin 
 of arrows and guns, and scratchin and tearin as you never did see. 
 Directly the Injuns knocks down the Gov'nor and grabs the flag. Up 
 comes the school-master and makes his long sword go this way and that, 
 just like the arms of the wind-mill down on the pint yonder; and the 
 arms, heads and legs of Injuns laid round in a pile, so you had to chmb 
 up and look over before you could see him. 
 
 All. The Tutor ? 
 
 Nick. The school-master. Then we takes the Gov'nor down to the 
 branch and washes off his head, and, says he, ''Whar's that ranger?'' 
 Says Capt. 'Clare, ''General, that ranger don't want to be known." 
 "Pshaw!" says the Governor, "I know him, and I want to tell him 
 how I don't believe he done that murder." 
 
 Ilellen. {Standing in doonoay, c.) Thank Heaven ! 
 
 Lady S. Why Hellen ! 
 
 LIcllcn. Go on, Scout. 
 
 Nick (aside). I will go on. That lady is the likeliest femak ever I 
 saw, but I'll find out what she thinks of the school-master, Then the 
 
36 THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 
 
 Gov'nor says, "What could have put that Henry Parke up to say in that 
 Wellford murdered him? Sure as I'm here, the boy is innocent." 
 And then the Gov'nor put on a pious look, same 's if he was sayin of 
 his prars, and, says he, ''I don't like to speak so of the dead, but sure 
 as I'm a good member of the English Church, that there Henry Parke 
 was a d — d rascal. 
 
 Lady S. and Dr. B. But the Tutor. 
 
 Nick. We goes to look for him, all through the woods, and directly 
 up on the mountain side, where had been a hard fight, lying in the 
 moonlight as still and as white as one of the tombstones in the church-yard 
 yonder, there lay the brave ranger, and the Gov'nor says, "God rest his 
 soul, for a braver heart never beat !" 
 
 Hellen. What? 
 
 Nick [quickly). I didn't say he was dead. Pie was only sort o' flum- 
 muxed by the lick of a war club. 
 
 Hellen. Then he is safe ? 
 
 Nick. I don't know; he may have ketched the aguer since he come 
 back to the low country. \_Music in the distance.^ 
 
 All exelcmn. The Governor. 
 
 Nick (aside). Now they think I ar'n't got no gal at all, but I reckon 
 I can run a trail without barkin; and I'm studyin how to break cover. 
 I've hunted all varmints except a gal, and she beats my time. 
 
 Dr. B. Come, ladies; from the observatory we may catch the first 
 glimpse of them. [BJxeu7it Dr. B., Lady S. and Kate S., c] 
 
 Hellen. Scout, you are a friend of this gentleman, and a friend, 
 too, worth having. Answer me a question seriously; does he or 
 the Governor know that Mr. Parke has recovered from his wound ? 
 
 Niek. Miss Hellen, I am a friend to the school-master. Let me ask 
 you one question; did you ever see two stags fightin with their horns 
 locked ? 
 
 Hellen. No. 
 
 Nick. Well, sometimes in the woods the hunter finds the white bones 
 of the two varmints with the horns so locked that no human hand can 
 get 'em apart. And the reason why that fight was so savage, was, be- 
 cause the prettiest doe in the forest was standin by, and when she saw 
 the two lying stark and cold, she just frisked away to look for other 
 lovers. And that's the way it'll be between these two men, for varmints 
 and people are more like than you think. We didn't know that' Mr. 
 Parke was well, but as for the school-master, why, see, yonder he rides 
 by the Gov'nor's side, wearin the Gov'nor's sword, and carryin the 
 flag. [-Exit R.] 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 37 
 
 JSelUn. Alas ! misfortmie seems tn liave marked him for lier victim. 
 See how he comes, flushed with pride and hope, and only once more to 
 face a new ordeal. If I am the unfortunate cause of all this, then Heaven 
 show me the way to help and save him. 
 
 Enter Sir Alexander and Wellford, l. 
 
 Sir A. Ah, my pretty Hellen. But see, here's a friend returned full 
 of honor, and cleared, we hope, from all past trouble : only he refuses 
 all reward, and insists on still being plain Master Wellford. 
 
 Hellen. And as Master Wellford we will welcome him, for we know 
 that he can honor any name he bears. 
 
 Wellford. Madam., your compliment is fairly given and gratefully ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 Hellen. Nay, 'tis no compliment; but. Sir Alexander, Lady Spots- 
 wood and my father are waiting for you within. Come; and you, Mas- 
 ter Wellford. 
 
 Enter Parke, r. 
 
 Parke. Stay, Master Tutor. 
 
 Wellford. Well, sir. 
 
 Sir A. Damme, sir, I thought you were dead. 
 
 Parke. Your Excellency seems disappointed; but Heaven has spared 
 me to unmask the impostor and bring the would-be murderer to justice. 
 I demand his arrest. 
 
 Hellen. Ah, Sir Alexander, remember that this is his mortal enemy, 
 v/ho may swear away his life. You have the right and the power to 
 save him. You are the Queen's Vice-Gerent, and may act as Pioyalty 
 itself would. 
 
 Sir A. Very well said, young lady, but I tr"3t Master Wellford is 
 able to rebut these charges. 
 
 Wellford. Your Excellency, I am ready to meet them at any moment. 
 What are they ? 
 
 Parke. The real Henry Wellford, whose name this imposter bears, 
 arrived in port but an hour ago, as the bearer of dispatches to your 
 Excellency. I am ready to offer my oath that this man was my would- 
 be assassin. 
 
 S-ir A. Mr. Parke, my son. Col. Spotswood, has assured me by a good 
 proof, that the blow was struck by Wenonga. 
 
 Parke. Your son's mere opinion is nought against my positive oath. 
 I demand the assassin's arrest. 
 
 Wellford. Your Excellency, I am entitled at least to a short space of 
 
38 THE GOLDEN flOESESHOE. 
 
 time to find my witnesses. You have offered me the epaulette of an 
 officer, and the badge of the Golden Horseshoe, both of which I have de- 
 clined. A soldier who bears even the pennon of a single squadron, is 
 entitled to parole. I only ask three hours, and to-night, in your full 
 court, will I confront this accuser, and will either confound him, or give 
 myself to the scaffold. 
 
 Hellen {aside). What can he mean? 
 
 Farke. Your Excellency will surely not parole an assassin, with the 
 proof before you of his guilt. 
 
 Sir A. That is my affair, sir. Master Wellford, you have your 
 parole till eight to-night. Be prompt to the moment. Come, Mistress 
 Hellen. • [Exit g.] 
 
 Hellen. Come, Master Wellford, my father will wait to see those 
 charges made good before he believes them; and as for me, I never will. 
 
 Wellford. {leading her to door, c.) My thanks, madam, from my 
 heart. I have no fear of this gentleman, come he in any shape he may 
 choose. 
 
 Parke. We shall see. And you, Hellen Blair, once for all, beware 
 how you slight my warning. 
 
 Wellford. Beware, you. 0n this spot, the scene of your proposed 
 perjury, I defy you. Before to-morrow's sun, the deadly game will be 
 done, and one of us will have fallen forever. Desperate gamester, the 
 stake is for life or death, fame or dishonor. Lose, and you get the 
 mercy you intend for me. 
 
 Parke. Vile impostor ! The stake seems to be something more. You 
 shall not escape through your patron's indulgence. [Draws.'] 
 
 Hellen {heiioeen them). Forbear, sir, you know not who it is you 
 
 would strike. 
 
 Tableau, 
 
 Scene closes. 
 
 SCENE n.— Same as Act II. 
 
 Pinter Nick Jarvis, fantastically dressed. 
 
 JSfieh. 1 thought I heard a fiddle squeak, and so I reckon the big ball 
 is goin to begin. If I hadn't paid for these here fine close, I'm blessed 
 if I wouldn't feel like a gentleman. Just to think of that young lady 
 takin on so for five years about her dead lover, and all at once to take 
 up with a stranger. As I said, a gal is unlike to any other varmint. 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 39 
 
 If you try to stalk her, slie'll wind you, even if you're to Icward of 
 her. If you chase her, she'll double equal to a grey fox, and even after 
 you've cotclied her, she'll turn to and make believe like a 'possum or a 
 kill-deer. But I've noticed how ducks would come to a blind out of 
 curossity, and turkies will do the same ; so I reckon the best way is to 
 call her to a blind. [ Whistles a tune.] 
 
 Enter Lucy, r. 
 
 Lucy. Why, Nick, is it you ? 
 
 Niek. Well, I reckon you can tell. What's the use of puttin on 
 so, Lucy ? you ar'n't got no more feelin than if you was a born lady. 
 
 Lucy. Well, did I ever ! I'm sure I wish I had been. 
 
 Nick. I thought you'd say so. But, Lucy, tell me, did you ever see 
 a big bumble bee light onto a red rose ? 
 
 Lucy. What a question ! No. 
 
 Nick. Then I'll show you how he does. {^Kisses her.] 
 
 Lucy. You impudent fellow ! Suppose somebody sees you ? 
 
 JSfick. Pshaw ! Do you think I'd have made a blind for you if any- 
 body was comin along ? But, Lucy, answer me another question, like a 
 catechism. Suppose I'd have been sculped by the Injuns, would you 
 ha' gone and let some other fellow tree you ? 
 
 Lucy. What? 
 
 JSflck. Tree you ; you know what I mean. But of course you ar'n't 
 goin to say. Lucy, did you ever see a chipmonk ? 
 
 Lucy. No ; what is it ? . 
 
 JSfick. Why its the prettiest, beautifuUest, sleekest little varmint you 
 ever did see, and the hardest to tame; but if once you do tam.e him, 
 he'll crawl up into your buzzom and lay there as trustful as a little 
 baby. And that's the way I'd like to tame you. 
 
 Lucy. But why do you call a girl like a wild thing ? 
 
 Nick. Because they are the prettiest. But, Lucy, the Gov'nor's a 
 goin to give me a big plantation out West, and I'm a goin to build me a 
 cabin there right 'by a big spring; skins of varmints hung all round the 
 walls, and over the chimney-piece a picter of the Gov'nor, like ole 
 Walter Baleigh's on the tavern sign. 
 
 Lucy. What else ? 
 
 Nick. Up over the bed, two stag's horns, and her hangin onto 'em. 
 
 Lucy. Her 
 
 } 
 
 Nick. Pshaw ! I didn't mean you; I meant ^, my gun. You don't 
 think I'd leave my little chipmonk out in the cold. Now there's no 
 use in puttin on; [enter O'Olarb and Kate, l.,) this here's as lonesome 
 
40 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 a place as you'd find in a mile. [Tenderly.) And then, what I was 
 goin to say is — [Luey sees the others and runs off, e.) Come back, 
 Lucy, I wasn't goin to be sassy. Durn my luck ! Nick Jarvis, you're a 
 durned gander, to go and scare the gal that way. 
 
 0' Clare. Ha, ha, ha. Ooonskih, you missed it that time. 
 
 Kate. Fie, Scout, making love to the girls ? 
 
 Nick. Well, I reckon it's catchin, but I was just tellin the gal about 
 the land the Gov'nor give me out West. 
 
 Kate. And you were bargaining for somebody to keep you company. 
 
 0' Claire. But, Coonskin, how will you settle up that country ? 
 
 Kick. Well, if I was to say, I reckon that lady would turn as red as 
 your cock's comb. [Kxit l.] 
 
 Kate. What does he mean ? 
 
 0' Clare. Faith, Kate when we are married you may know, but not 
 before, unless you find out. But hark ! The guests are arriving, and 
 the Chamberlain will call the first minuet directly. [Kzeunt r.] 
 
 SCENE III— Same as Act I. 
 
 The Governor in his seat, R. H.; Lady Spotswood, Ladies and Gentle- 
 men, L.; O'Clare, Brent and Nick Jarvis in front, l.; the Cham- 
 berlain at back. A minuet. 
 
 Chamberlain. Your Excellency, the outer hall is crowded with dis- 
 tinguished personages, who wait to be presented. 
 
 Sir A.' A moment, Mr. Chamberlain, and wait till the tutor, Master 
 Wellford, comes. 
 
 Kick. Capt. 'Glare, I'm bettin on the school-master. 
 
 Brent. And I'm giving odds on Parke. 
 
 O'Clare. If you are after betting with me, lend me the money, and if 
 you lose, faith, you won't have the trouble of paying. 
 
 Kick. That's true; but stop, I catch a whifi^ of pisen; he's comin. 
 
 Brent and O'Clare. Who? 
 
 Chamherlaiii. Henry Parke, Esq., Speaker of the House of Burgesses. 
 
 Enter Henry Parke, c. 
 
 Kick. Now we are ffoin to have it, as the rattlesnake said to the moc- 
 casin. 
 
 Parke. Your Excellency, I am here to redeem my pledge. 
 Chamberlain. The Sheriff of the Grand Court. [Enter Sheriff, c] 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 41 
 
 Parke. And here is the Sheriff with the warrant. Where is the 
 prisoner? 
 
 Sir A. He will doubtless be here in a moment. 
 
 Parke. Your Excellency is strangely infatuated with this man. It is 
 past the time, and while we dally thus, he escapes. I ask that you will 
 send a party to arrest him. He will not return. 
 
 Enter Hellen, c. 
 
 Hellen. He will return. 
 
 Parke. He has a zealous advocate, madam; but permit me to ask, are 
 you the counsel to defend the tutor ? 
 
 Hellen. The gentleman whom the tutor disarmed should know that 
 the tutor can defend himself. 
 
 Nick. Ha, ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Chamberlain. Be quiet, sir, and remember where you are. 
 
 Nick. Capt. 'Clare, you and Capt, Brent, each one take holt of the 
 eends of this here cravat, and every time that lady makes a gaff like 
 that, haul 'em taught, to make me keep good manners. 
 
 Dr. Blair. My daughter, be calm ; you cannnot do your friend any 
 good. 
 
 Hellen. Father, let me speak. I shall implore the Governor to give 
 this unfortunate man time. Sir Alexander, I know nought of the forms 
 and formalities of law, but I do know that Master Wellford's mortal 
 enemy stands here ready to swear his life away. I, who saw the tutor 
 in that equivocal position on that memorable night, am ready to swear 
 that he is innocent. 
 
 Parke. And I, that he is guilty. 
 
 Hellen. Then you are strangely mistaken, or strangely culpable. 
 
 Parke. Neither. Sir Alexander, there can be no answer to the oath 
 I have made. How can I be mistaken ? For the rest, what right has 
 this lady to doubt my veracity ? 
 
 Hellen. The right of absolute conviction. Where is the brother 
 whose estate you hold, and what caused his death but the letter you 
 wrote him, telling a falsehood as base as ever polluted a human tongue ? 
 
 Parke. A letter? Where is it? 
 
 Hellen. Alas ! It was torn to pieces by one of the victims of its 
 malice. Sir Alexander — . 
 
 Sir A. My daughter, calm yourself, and remember 'tis only a question 
 of an arrest. The tutor is not on his trial. When he is, your testi- 
 mony will be heard. 
 
 Hellen. But of what avail can it be, when here is the tutor's enemy, ready 
 with perjury to commit a second murder? Aye, I say it, sir. Sir Alexander, 
 6 
 
42 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 I swear to you that Albert Parke's desperate attempt to rescue your 
 brother, General Elliott, was caused by this smooth faced villain's asser- 
 tion that I, Albert's affianced bride, had forgotten him for another. 
 
 Parke. If I said so, madam, the assertion seems only to have fore- 
 stalled the fact. 
 
 Hellen. Your sneer, sir, is but a poisoned shaft, which falls short of 
 the mark. With the brand of Cain on your brow, you dare to compass 
 a second murder. But know that there is a single fact, which, if told, 
 will confound your falsehood and your terrible intent. 
 
 Sir A. Then state it, my daughter. 
 
 Hellen. Sir Alexander, I dare not; but I only trust in Heaven that 
 the tutor himself will. 
 
 Brent. {To O'Clare and Jarvis.) Ten to one on Parke. 
 
 Nick. I ar'n't carin. One to a pony. 
 
 a Clare. Hush! 
 
 Parke. Your Excellency, let us cut this matter short. It is an hour 
 after the time appointed. Let the warrant be executed. 
 
 Sir A. It must be so then. Sheriff, execute the warrant. {A shout 
 without.) Chamberlain, see what is the matter. 
 
 Lady S. What can that mean? 
 
 Kate. What, indeed, mama ? It must be the Queen's messenger. 
 
 Nick, (aside.) Hold on to them eends, ■ for now somethin's goin to 
 happen. 
 
 Chamberlain (at hack). Your Excellency, the royal messenger has 
 arrived from the King. • 
 
 Sir A. and the rest. The King ! 
 
 Chamberlain. Yes, your Excellency, her Majesty, Queen Anne, has 
 been dead these four months. The ship that brings the 'news was cast 
 away from her course. His Majesty, King George I., now reigns. The 
 messenger, Henry Wellford, Esq., but pauses to lay aside his riding 
 dress. Here are the dispatches. 
 
 Sir A. (Taking papers and reading.) 
 
 " Given at our Palace of Windsor. 
 
 " To Sir Alexander Spotswood, Governor of our Colony of Virginia: 
 
 "Trusty and Well Beloved, — These are to confirm to you tbe Gov- 
 ernorship, with dominion over all conquests made under our lawfnl 
 authority, and at your own especial discretion and adventure, <^c., ^e." 
 
 [^Opening another paper. ^ 
 ■ But what is this ? A special pardon to Col. Albert Parke, late Aide 
 
THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 43 
 
 de camp lo His Grace tlie Duke of Marlborough, and restoration to liis 
 rank in our service. And his appointment to the Governorship of our 
 Colony of Martinique. Why, his Majesty must know that Albert has 
 been dead these five years. 
 
 Hellen [aside). Thank Heaven! 
 
 0' Clare. Poor boy ! The pardon can't bring him to life. 
 
 JSfiok. Then yonder 's a ghost. Look yonder. Governor. 
 
 [Wellford, in scarlet uniform appears at back.] 
 
 Hellen. No, 'tis he himself, in life and honor, safe even from a bro- 
 ther's hate. Oh ! Albert ! [Embrace.] 
 
 Sir A. {Leaving his seat.) My boy, my boy, where were our eyes all 
 this time ? 
 
 Lady jS. Where indeed, but, Albert, why not have made yourself 
 known to those whose devotion you could not have doubted ? 
 
 Albert. Your Ladyship, and Sir Alexander, through years of exile 
 and disgrace I have found refuge under the borrowed name of a loving 
 kinsman, whom I have left but an hour ago, and I brought you these 
 dispatches because his name shall not be returned to him till it is as free 
 from stain and dishonor as that which is once more my own. I am still 
 Henry Wellford. Where is his accuser ? 
 
 Lady S. Remember, Albert, he is 'your brother. 
 
 Albert. I shall remember that he is a man, and were he ten times a 
 brother, he shall be amenable to the law. Let him speak. 
 
 8ir A. Mr. Parke, what have you to say ? 
 
 0' Clare. He's struck dumb. 
 
 Brent. The man's turned to stone. 
 
 Nick. If he is it's brimstone. ^ 
 
 Dr. Blair. He stands like a statue. Albert, in this happy moment of 
 your return to the enjoyment of all that Heaven can give to make one 
 happy, remember that it does not become you to be cruel. At least 
 let his Excellency be the Judge. 
 
 8ir A. Yes, my boy, leave all this matter to me. 
 
 Albert. Nay, Sir Alexander, no judge, or high authority, not Majesty 
 itself, shall come between him and me. Not because he blighted my 
 dearest hopes, and by his treason stained this hand with innocent blood. 
 Not because he caused me to roam the world a culprit despised of men^ 
 and broke the dearest tie that bound me to my fellows. For these I 
 forgive him, for they are my individual wrongs alone. But because his 
 diabolical ambition had led him beyond the pale of humanity, to compass 
 the destruction of thousands of his fellow-men in the wanton gratifica- 
 tion of his passions. These are the wrongs of others, and for these he 
 
44 THE GOLDEN HOESESHOE. 
 
 shall suffer. Sheriff, {taking out jpapers). As I rode here, Sir Alexan=- 
 der, I halted at our family mansion, and in a secret cabinet, known only 
 to him and to me, I found these papers, the proofs of his conspiracy 
 with — 
 
 Hellen. Ah, Albert, remember that another has suffered, more, per- 
 haps, than you. If you constitute yourseK his judge, to give those 
 papers, or not, then, as his judge, remember to be merciful. For my 
 sake, forgive him. 
 
 Albert. If ever Heaven fulfills a fond dream of happiness, 'tis when 
 beauty, innocence and love are crowned with constancy. What could 
 Hellen ask that Albert would not grant ! For your sake I will. 
 
 [ Tears paper and walks up.l 
 [Nick:' Jarvis picks up scraps of the paper, and O'CLAREanc^ Brent 
 look at them.] 
 
 Brent. The pirate Blackbeard ! 
 
 Nick and 0' Clare. Blackbeard! 
 
 Albert, (c.) Brother, I thought to be your judge, but all else is for- 
 gotten except that we are brothers. Youth and the future still remain 
 to redeem the past; take our fortune as freely as I give thee this hand. 
 
 JParke. And do you think I would take forgiveness, or ought else, 
 from that hand? If Heaven made us brothers, the Devil made us 
 enemies. Since childhood not a thought or feeling had we in common, 
 except one, and that, if there be a life hereafter, would make my dust 
 rise to strike you. Take her, Brother, and may a curse bHght you and 
 yours forever. Sir Alexander, I had hoped to hold your seat. I have 
 lost, 'tis true ; but there is another power in this Western world besides 
 your delegated authority of law and order/ We may meet again, [^xit c] 
 
 'Lady S. and Dr. B. He's gone. 
 
 Nick. And the ar is free from pisen at last. 
 
 [Albert, Hellen, and Kate S., at hack.] 
 
 Sir A. (r.) My dear, and you, Eeverend Doctor, the Queen was a 
 good old woman, {piously), Lord rest her soul, but between us, I'm d — d 
 glad of it, for the Prince is a real King, and a great friend of Marl- 
 borough, who is back at Court by this time. 
 
 [ The characters exchange greetings with Albert and come forward sue- 
 eesively.] 
 
 Br. B. Then, your Excellency, we shall carry out our Colonial policy ? 
 
 Bady S. With the Indians, Sir Alexander ? 
 
 /Sir A. Yes, with the Indians; but no more conversion. Doctor, hey? 
 Damme, here's my civilizer. [ Tapping sword,] 
 
THE GOLDEN SOESESHOE. 45 
 
 Nick Jarvis. Schoolmaster, I mean Colonel, you ought to have heard 
 that lady talkin for you. Lordee ! Nobody else could have done the 
 like, nobody. I couldn't have done it; but let me go and get my own 
 gal. [Sxit E.] 
 
 Sir A. Albert, my lad, we'll talk this over to-morrow; to-night only 
 enjo3n3ient and carouse. {Taking off his chain and horseshoe.) Not a 
 word; this is thine by all the laws of justice. 
 
 Lady JS. Then let me place it on his neck. 
 
 /Sir A. And to-morrow shall see more weddings than ever our little 
 capital witnessed before in a year. 
 
 Dr. B. And I will bless all the happy couples. 
 
 Kate. And I will teach O'Clare a new system of tactics and discip- 
 line. 
 
 Nick. And I'll start out "West to settle my new plantation. 
 
 [Embracing Lucy.] 
 
 Sir A. Then, Chamberlain, call a health to King George, and let us 
 admit all our friends who are waiting. 
 
 Albert. But first let us thank those who have watched a lover's ad- 
 ventures and disguises, in his search for truth and constancy. 
 
 Hellen. And how he found them, is the moral of The Golden 
 Horseshoe. 
 
 Curtain. 
 
 Disposition. 
 
 The Chamberlin. The Sheriff. 
 
 Hellen, Albert, 
 
 Kate, O'Clare, Lady S., Sir A., 
 
 Lucy, Nick, Brent, Dr. B. 
 
 THE END. 
 
THE 
 
 GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 §, f mma. 
 
 BY W. PAGE McCARTY. 
 
 (FOUNDED ON THE HISTOEICAL ACCOUNTS, AND THE LEGENDARY ACCOUNT BY 
 
 CARUTHERS, OF THE " TRAMONTANE ORDER," OR KNIGHTS 
 
 OF THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE.) 
 
 RICI3:M:0]Sr33: 
 
 F. A. CHRISTIAN, PUBLISHER. 
 

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