LIB RARY OF CONGR ESS. 
 
 Shelf ....25^4-7 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
TUNNING Blow 
 
 m^dmMA^o?m-mY j^ 
 
 IN FOUR ACTS, BY 
 
 !.£ 
 
 M 
 
 L, Q. Jeffries. Esq., 
 
 WITH CAST OF CHflRICTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, 
 
 RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE CHARACTERS 
 
 ON THE STAGE, ETC., ETC. 
 
 J 
 
 /-> 
 
 
 i5^^ 
 
 i! 
 
 8^:1 i 
 
 wooster, ohio : 
 (teo. a. Clapper, Printer. 
 
 1880, 
 
 v 
 
Entered aecording to the Act of C'oiigiess. in the yi^av 
 eighteen hundred and eighty, by 
 
 L. Q. JEFFRIES. 
 
 In the ottice of the Lil)rarian of Congress, at the City of 
 Washington. D. C. 
 
 C(^PY RIGHT, 
 
 1880, 
 By L. q. JEFFRIES. 
 
Stunning Blow. 
 
 ''R^mMKfOYm-mY> 
 
 IN FOUR ACTS, BY 
 
 L D. Jeffries, Esq, 
 
 WITH CAST OF CHHRJICTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, RELA- 
 TIVE POSITIONS OF THE CHARACTERS ON THE STAGE, ETC. 
 
 V ^f 
 
 wooster, ohio : 
 Geo. a. Clapper, Printer. 
 
 1880. 
 
 7^ 
 
43^ 
 
 .'2-^ 
 
 -CAST*>0F<H]\R11CTERS> 
 
 Jabp:z O'Niel. Dingle Black. 
 
 William Vinton. Vera Saville. 
 
 John Williams Saville. Clarrisse Vinton. 
 
 George Caneield. Mrs. Fanny Vinton. 
 James Darragh. 
 
 TIZ^/illE]— 1:I3:E I'XSIESIEniTT'. 
 
 Exits, Entrances, and Relative Positions. 
 
 R. means Ri^lit ; L. Left ; C. Center ; R. C. Riglit of 
 Center; L. C. Left of Center; M. D. Middle Doors; R. 
 1. E. Rioht First Entrance ; L. 1. E. Left First P^ntrance ; 
 M. D. to L. Middle Door going to the Left ; M. D. to R. 
 Middle Door going to tlie Right ; D. L. Door Left ; D. R. 
 Door Right ; L. if. C. Left Upper Corner ; R. U. C. Right 
 Upper Corner; C. from R. Center coming from Right; C. 
 from L. Center coming from Left ; C. to R. Center going 
 to Right ; C. to L. Center going to Left. 
 
 TMP96^0064C8 
 
-^lltSTUNNING^BLO¥^ 
 
 Scene. — Elegantly furnished Blue Room at Viiiton Place — 
 box room 'with middle doors — doors R and L — Sofa R — 
 table R C — large chair L of table — Mrs. Vinton seated 
 ill large chair reading book, Clarrisse reclining on the 
 sofa, discovered at the rising of the cnrtain. 
 
 Clar. \_Langiiidly.~\ Well, can 3011 i>rociire me a 
 husband ? 
 
 Mrs. V. So, my dear, you have spoken your mind at 
 last, have you? Yes, I can, but my selection may not 
 suit your fastidious taste. 
 
 Clar. Let your choice have the semblance of a man, 
 and I 'will be satisfied. 
 
 Mrs. V. 1 must marry first, however. 
 
 Clar. So, the cat is out of the bag, is it? Very well. 
 The sooner the better for both. 
 
 Mrs. V. ■ Listen to me, my dear. Observant gentle- 
 men have pleased to consider me a well preserved woman. 
 
 Clar. Well? 
 
 Mrs. V. 1 have been told by several gentlemen of 
 near my own age that I should marry again ; and as your 
 father has been dead a little over two years, I think the 
 same. 
 
 . Clar. 1 wonder that you did not select some one at 
 ftither's funeral. Go on. 
 
 Mrs. V. There is only one man I care for enough to 
 become his wife. 
 
 Clar. Tell me his delightful name. 
 
 Mrs. V. You remember how singularly successful 
 iinauciall}- 3-our father wasduring the year he died, and that 
 
4 A STl NMN<r BI.OW. 
 
 it was yeiy shortly hetbre his death that lie piu'ehased our 
 present home. Ilis sudden demise prevented him telUng 
 me somethino- whieh seemed to concern liim very much. 
 He connected with the particular communication he 
 desired to make the name of the person I prefer for m;^ 
 second husband ; and I have convinced myself that he 
 wished to request me to marry this pei'son if I married a 
 second time. His name is Elias Smith. Your father was 
 a conscientious man. 
 
 Clar. \_After aliort 2n(Uiie.~\ Mrs. Fanny N'inton Smith, 
 the healthful, wealthy, becoming, well preserved s])ouse of 
 the notable bond cou[)on Elias Smith, Avill sound superl). 
 [Laughs.'] 
 
 [Jauez appears at m d. 
 
 ,fah. \_Aiiiivuia'in(i.'] Ml". Oeorge C'anlleld, Esquire. 
 \_E liter C'anfikld ji. d. Exit Jabez m. d. to l. 
 
 Clar. \_Wit]i()iit risiii(j.~\ Mr. Canlield, have you come 
 exi)ectiug- me to accompany you in a drive as I promised? 
 Is it so ? 
 
 Can. Tiiie, true. 
 
 Clar. 1 must break the engagement. You of course 
 are delighted ? 
 
 Can. True, true. 
 
 Mrs. V. Be seated, Mr. C'anfield. 
 
 Clar. Mr. Canfield has not time to sit. He will 
 continue his drive alone. Will you not? 
 
 Can. True, ti-ue. 
 
 Clar. Ah, you truant, you know better. Y'ou will invite 
 Miss Delaware Frindly. Y'ou do not need to deny to me 
 that such is not your intention, since your lirst choice can 
 not go. Am I not your first choice I 
 
 Can. True, true. 
 
 Clar. \_Rising.~\ Come, I will see you started toward 
 the DelaAvare. l)on't attempt to cross her because you 
 might become chilled l)y her hauteui". Isn't she a cold 
 hearted mortal ? 
 
 Can. True, true. \_Exltisi d Clakkisse twid Canfield. 
 
 Jah. \_Wi'tlwut .] Anyway, I've broke him of kicking. 
 He will uiver lift any one of his hind legs without thinking 
 of the drop he got. 
 
 \_Enter William Yi'sto^ followed by Jaijez. m d. 
 
A STl NMN<; BJ.OW. O 
 
 }Vm . 1 fear that yoii have iujured the best horse I ha^'e. 
 
 Jab. Niver fear that, Billy. He made his manners 
 illeg-antly, anyway, and by this and by that I've broke him 
 of his inaneness. (To Mrs. Vinton.) When yon go to 
 JMr. Smith's, v.ill yon ride in the g'ig, or will yon have the 
 eonp, yonr ladyship? 
 
 Liar. \_Enterin(i m d*] Brother dear, yon should 
 teach Jabez to call the chaise and the coupe by their proper 
 names. His pronunciation is too vulgar for })olite ears. 
 
 Jab. May you niver hear any worse words spoke, your 
 ladyship. 
 
 Wm. Which Mr. Smith do von intend visiting, mother ? 
 
 Mi'ii. V. William Smith, -ibth street. 
 
 Jab. I beg your ladyship's pardon, but 1 remember 
 your telling me that yon wanted me to drive yon to Mr. 
 i^^lias Smith's office this afternoon. I remimber it 
 distinctly ma'am. 
 
 Wm. I do not wish you to visit him. 1 will attend to 
 any business you may have with him. and when I am 
 absent Jabez will act for me. 
 
 Jab. That 1 will, Billy, and I'll tip him a Tipperary 
 boy's good morning if he don't do what she wants, to 
 teach him to be obliging to a lady. (Searches his pockets 
 rapidly.) I have a small bit of a letter a swate 3'oung 
 lady gave to me a while ago at the big iron gate, for your 
 ladyship. She was hungry, and so I took her into the 
 kitchen to ate some crumbs from the rich one's table, audi 
 suppose she is there now waiting for your answer. ( Takes 
 memorandum book from his coat pocket and from it produces 
 a. piece of folded papjer ivhich he hands to Mrs. Vinton.) 
 There it is your ladyship. 
 
 Mrs. V. \_Reads note and rises. Aside.'] No doubt 
 a beggar — a saucy jade insinuating in this manner the 
 right of her impecunious dignity. {Exit d k.) 
 
 C7«r. Jabez, look well after your sweet protege now in 
 the kitchen eating crumbs. My last novel is more inter- 
 esting to me than are the sufferings of the poor, so I will 
 attend to its inviting contents. Billy, I wish to make an 
 errand boy of yon after lunch. {Exit d l.) 
 
 Jab. Billy, I'm a poor Irishman that works hard foi' 
 his jnonev, and mv heart is too tinder to refnse a small bit 
 
to one of the poor in need. Have von a bit to join mine 
 to give to her? 
 
 Will. ( Giving tnotiey. ) G ive her this in yonj- own name. 
 
 Jab. May St. Patrick kape the snakes ont of yonr 
 ]nind always, Billy darling. It will make her heart glad 
 to know of one rale hnmane man, and these live dollars 
 willhilp hny her a new dress, for the one she wears is all 
 ragged and worn ont altogither. 
 
 iVm. {Going.) Well, Jabe, give her the money, and 
 wish her a God's blessing for me. 
 
 Jab. Hadn't you better say that to her yoursilf, Billy? 
 
 Wm. No, I don't care to. {Exit l. i. e. 
 
 Jab. If all the young min were as good hearted as 
 Billy is, the poor wouldn't starve a long time. It's many 
 the dollar he gives to thim. He casts his bread upon the 
 waters to return in many days to him ten times as much. 
 It's a pity he hasn't the pin-se of liis mother instead of 
 herself. He would do a power of good outside with tliose 
 who nade it, while the ould lady Iniys hersilf a bad dys- 
 pepsia and a frightful nightmare, bad luck to her. If 
 Billy w^as a poor boy like myself he wouldn't be long 
 falling in love with the poor gal I left in the kitchen. 1 
 tould the cook to sind her here when she was through ating. 
 {Enter Veka Saville hesitatingly l. 1. e. 
 
 Vera. Can 1 see the lady of the house, sir? 
 
 Jab. You can, your ladyship. You look like a tired 
 out anybody, so plaze take a sate on the ilegant sotia 
 there all soft and fine and expensive. It will rest you a 
 bit to feel its comfort and aise. 
 
 Vera. You are kind to me, sir. {jSits on sofa.) 
 
 Jab. I would like to be your frind since you seem to 
 nade one in your distress that spakes so iloquently by 
 your voice, your manners, and your clothes. And will 
 you tell a poor Irish boy 3'our name ? 
 
 Vera. Vera Saville. 
 
 Jab. {Startled — uside.) By the powers! PhewM 
 {Aloud — recovered.) That's a very pritty name. When 
 the lady comes she wall listen to you, and give you some 
 money. 
 
 Vera. Do not mistake me, sir. I do not wish the 
 ladv's monev until I can earn it. 
 
A STrNNIN(i ULOW. / 
 
 ^i\b. And would you like to be in the employ of her in 
 doing the work of the house? Its a dale of it there is to 
 do, and you look too weak like to perform it. 
 
 \eri\. 1 wish to teach vocal and instrumental nuisic, 
 and drawing and painting. 
 
 At\h. Thin may the saints protict you here, because 
 ))oth the ladies sing and ]^lay to the satisfaction of their 
 own conceits ; and for the iKiinting they are all one could 
 wish for in the art, for they put it on pretty thick to save 
 soap in the washing of their faces. Be aisy now, for here 
 comes the ould lady l)y the iligence of her gintle tread. 
 {^SUindfi to L. Xera rises. Enter u. k. Mrs.Xinton.) 
 Your ladyship, this is the young lady that sint you the 
 note. 
 
 jMas. V. {Seats herself yrancUy in chair at table l.) ■ 
 Youv note rendu (reads aloud.) ''Madam: Tlease grant 
 an interview to a friendless orphan, moneyless and home- 
 less." {Spoken.) What is your wish? What have you 
 to say? 
 
 Vera. I have no money nor triends, nor jjlace to shelter 
 me. My father and mother are dead, and I am trying to 
 earn my living. 1 can teach vocal and instrumental music 
 and landscape painting, and have come to you, hoping — 
 
 Mas. v. {Rises — internqyting. I cannot patronize 
 you, so do not waste your words. Besides, your wardrobe 
 is too meagre to permit you to appear decently. [_Clfers 
 money.'] Take this. It is not nuich, but beggars have 
 no choice of quantity. 
 
 Vera. {Scornfully.) I have not askad 3'ou for alms. 
 I am not a beggar, and I despise your offered money. I 
 have seen the time when I was not compelled to ask of 
 such as you the privilege to work for my living. Keep 
 your money, madam. You may need the very pittance you 
 now offer me in cold charity. Were I starving, I would 
 not accept your money would it alone buy the food that 
 would save my life. 
 
 Jab. {Aside.) The saints bless 3'ou ! Spit it out at 
 her, the ould catamaran ! 
 
 Mrs. V. I did not intend my offer for an insult. Here 
 comes my daughter, perhaps she ma}' permit you to earn 
 vour nionev. 
 
« A STLNM>;(i BLOW. 
 
 \_£Juter C'lakki8!?e d. l. and comes down. 
 
 Clar. {Sees Vera.) Well, who have we here iu this 
 strange looking- mortal ? {Looks at Veka through her 
 eyeglasses.) Oh, I remember. She, I presume, is the 
 beggar girl Jabez spoke of. 
 
 Jab. You spake correctly for once, your ladyship. 
 
 Mrs. V. Clarrisse, my dear, this lady desires to 
 instruct you in music. 
 
 Clar. Why, how delightful it will seem to be taught. 
 Do you teach the rudiments, or the — excuse me for ex- 
 pressing a thought derogatory to your (|ualification. 
 Indeed it will be delightful to l)e taught by a school girl. 
 {Laughs.) No, I thank you. I will excuse you from 
 teaching me anything. 
 
 \era. It would not l)e a task to teach you. 
 
 Clar. You would ha\ e your imtience tried with me. 
 But I do desire a waiting maid, and you may remain and 
 serve me in that capacity if you will. You can wear my 
 cast off dresses until you can earn money enough to buy 
 your own. The rag you have on is simply disgraceful. 
 Well, will you remain here amid luxury, or will you go 
 into the streets to beg again ? 
 
 Jab. \^Aside to Vera.^ Stay for your own sake. The 
 blissed saints have brought you here. 
 
 Vera. I — I will remain and try to do my duty. 
 
 Clar. Then come to my room and take otf that horrid 
 dress. [^Both going.'] 
 
 Mrs. V. Clarrisse, my dear, you have not had my 
 consent to retain this person. 
 
 Clar. My wish is all that is required my dear mother. 
 Come — but first tell me your christined name. 
 
 Nera. Vera. 
 
 Clar. A beautiful name denoting truth. Come, Vera, 
 follow me to my room. Jabez, have the brecht at the 
 door at exactl}' five o'clock. My new maid and I will 
 take an airing. \_Exit Yyaix and Clarkisse d. l. 
 
 Jab. \_Aside.~\ The dove is now in the claws of the 
 hawk ; but bad luck to me if I don't break the wing of her 
 if she don't treat her well. 
 
 3lrs. V. \_Crossly.'] Jabez. 
 
 Jah. [xiside.'] 1 wonder what the ould catamaran 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. \) 
 
 v.aiits ncnv. By her voice she's a liar out of tune. 
 
 Mrs. V. Jabez, I say. I want the breeht at the side 
 door at exactly four o'clock. \^Goes to d. l.] Tell 
 William to come to my room. \^Exits.^ 
 
 Jab. It's a dale of hot water they keep me in, for the 
 ould one won't be ba,ck till six, and thin the cliyil will be lit 
 loose in the youno- one. They can haye it their own way 
 for all of me. [/S7^o?'?pa?(se.] The blessed saints have 
 sint the i)Oor orphan here to find a home, and a good one 
 she will find it barring the jawings her mistress will o-lve 
 her. 
 
 Mrs. Y. ( Without. Will you tell AVilliam that I 
 want liim at once ? 
 
 Jab. Yis ma'm. ( Takes blank book from his pocket 
 and icrites — theyi reads aloud.) ''Vera Saville, dressed in 
 rags, came to-day and was emi)loyed as maid to the 
 daughti'r." (Spoken.) --John William Saville." I'll 
 kape mum of this, and watcli with my two eyes to see all 
 that happens, and use my two ears to hear all that's said. 
 You poor deserted darling, fate has sint 3'ou this wa}', and 
 I'm the one to do you rale service. 
 
 Mrs. V. (Appearing at m. d.) Jabez, why don't you 
 obey me ? Where is William ? 
 
 Jab. 1 suppose he is in his ilegant room aslape, or 
 doing something of the same importance. Shall I call him? 
 
 Mrs. V. Oh, this is too much ! Shall you call him 
 indeed ! I ordered you to tell him that I wished to see 
 him, several moments ago. 
 
 Jab. I now belave you did. When shall I tell him 
 you want him ? 
 
 Mrs. v. (In a. rage.) Now, sir! Now% sir! And 
 then you can consider yourself discharged from an}' fur- 
 ther service here ! (Exits d. k. angrily.) 
 
 Jab. That's the way she talks to me ivery wake. (Door 
 bell rings.) That's the l)ell of the front door and I'm dis- 
 charged, and can't attind it ; and I can't tell the son to go 
 to his swate timpered mother liecause I'm not in service. 
 (Bell rings.) Just hear the l)larney of tlie little intilli- 
 gent monster. (Bell rings louder.) I suppose I must 
 answer the third ring to put mysilf in place again ; and I 
 can't lave the poor orphan alone with the hard hearted 
 
10 A STUNNTMi BLOW. 
 
 wretches. {BeU rings furiously.) One more ring like that 
 and the wire will break. I'm coming you dirty ringmaster. 
 {Exit M. 1). to L.) 
 
 EUas S. {Without, after short pause.) What's the 
 matter with the inmates of this house that a i)erson must 
 be compelled to i)ull down the bell wire that he may be 
 heard? \_Enters m. d.] 
 
 Jab. {Enteriuy.) TFhat's the matter with the visitors 
 to this house that the bell must be rung hard enough to 
 wake the dead ? By this and bv that you seem to more 
 than belong here. 
 
 EUas S. I will see that you are discharged and 
 forcil)ly ejected from the house. 
 
 Jab. I'm discharged already, sir. bv the ould lady 
 you have your eye on. 
 
 EUas )S. I will make this visit a special one against 
 you, you vagabond ! 
 
 Jab. Will you now ? It's a sorry husi )and you will 
 make to her ; and swate lives you will live together, 
 always exhibiting your l>ad timpers that you'll be to one 
 another. 
 
 EUas S. What do you mean by husband and sweet 
 lives, you villain ? 
 
 Jab. I always know what I say before I say it. If 
 you havn't asked the ould lady to be your blissed wife, 
 you'd better be doing it. {Goes toward m. d.) 
 
 EUas S. {Passionately.) Wiiat — what do you mean, 
 sir? I have a mind to strike you to the floor ! 
 
 Jab. You have a mind to do any mane act. But my 
 darling, don't be so choleric over so small a matter. 
 
 EUas jS. You Irish divil ! I'll teach you not to insult 
 a respectable old man ! {Rushes toward Jahez.) 
 
 Jab. \_Strong.'} Stop ! \_Smith stops sudderdy k. c] 
 In the name of the dead Californian remain where you 
 are ! The wicked deeds of the living do not die with the 
 murdered dead. Whisper. ( Whisjjers in Smith's ear — 
 S7nith recoils and comes down to l. front.'] 
 
 EUas S. \_Aside.'] Is this a horrid dream ? VVHio — 
 what is this man that he seems to know so much I Am I 
 tracked, found out, at last ! [Recovers.] I nuist and 
 will brave it out. 
 
A STUNNING HLOW. II 
 
 ,]ab. If you are through spakiug to yoursilf a man of 
 since will be after talking to you — \^8mi'th turns — Jabez 
 romes doivn.~\ It's a deal I know about you, and the ])etter 
 you treat me the less trouble I'll be to you. [CVo.sses to 
 Smith.~\ Take my advice and marry the widow, for you 
 had better get into the family to keep a family secret. 
 It's a wise father that knows his own child, and it's a 
 wise banker that knows his own mone}'. 
 
 Elms S. \_Starts,'] I'll consider what you have said. 
 Crosses to r. — aside.^ I'll be even with him for this. 
 Exit R. 1. E.] 
 
 Jab. You dirty ould villian, I've got you in my claws, 
 and you feel my nails pressing into your vitals. I'm 
 after you and you know it, you thaving blaggard. 
 
 \_Enter William hastily l. 1. e. 
 
 Wm. Jabez, I want the blacks and the light carriage 
 at once. I am going for a long drive. 
 
 Ja6. All riglit, Billy. But I say, Billy, the poor gal 
 is employed by your sister as maid, and she is now in her 
 room putting on some good clothes. Will you wait and 
 see her? 
 
 Wm. I am in no disposition to see an}- one ; besides I 
 am in a liurry to be off. Is she pretty ? 
 
 Jaft. Is it turning round in your disposition that you 
 are to inquire after a beautiful female. Wait till vou see 
 her. Billy. 
 
 \_^E liter C'larrisse d. l. 
 
 Clar. Brother dear, I have secured a very sweet look- 
 ing girl for waiting maid, and I think I will be quite 
 suited. You are not to be infatuated, for she will not 
 have tune to devote in returning a like soft sentiment. I 
 will introduce you. \_CaUs.'] Vera ! 
 
 \_Enter ^^ERA d. l. .KuperbJy dressed. 
 
 Vera. What is it, milady ? 
 
 Clar. I simply wish you to meet 1113' brother William. 
 Mr. Vinton — Miss Vera Saville. There, Vera, you can 
 consider this favor an honor to be remembered. [^Gazes 
 at Vera through eyeglasses.'] Why child you are really 
 eclipsing. I did not fully appreciate the ])eauty of that 
 dress. Y^ou shall take it off, and wear another. If you, 
 Vera, were real rich, you would be wooed unceasingly by 
 
12 
 
 adventurous fortune hunters. Were you ever in love? 
 (Sits in large chair.) 
 
 Vera. No, milady. 
 
 Clar. You have not perfectly enjoyed life then. 1 
 think it blissful to be in love. What do you think of her. 
 brother? Is she not a worthy acquisition? 
 
 Wm. I can only say that you must guard well your 
 own laurels. 
 
 Jah. (Aside.) The ugly thing is wiltid alieady 1»y 
 the side of her. 
 
 Clar. Oh, she cannot eclipse the moon l)y wearing its 
 robes. What do you say. Vera dear, to your winning my 
 laurels from me ? 
 
 Vera. I am not ambitious ; and it is an impossibility. 
 
 Clar. That is a wise answer. You seem to under- 
 stand that I am the lady. Your position is below me. 
 
 Vera. Can I go to my room for a few minutes? 
 
 Clar. Yes ; and put on the last dress 1 laid out foi- 
 you. I have fallen in love with the one you have on. J 
 will ring when I want you. (Exit Vera d. l.) 
 
 Wm. Now I will tell you what I think of her. She is 
 superior to many ladies I know, in many ways. She is 
 beautiful and seems sensible. 
 
 Clar. Billy dear, you are in love with her already ; 
 and if you improve you will be soon paying court to her. 
 
 Jab. I wouldn't be ashamed of her in the society of 
 the President. 
 
 Clar. (Laughing.) Of course you wouldn't be ashamed 
 of her, but she might be ashamed of you. I say, Billy 
 dear, invite her to the opera to-night. Your new con- 
 quest sitting in our box with you, will not attract a glass. 
 Oh, no ! (Laughs,) I will use a lorgnette to observe your 
 devotion. 
 
 TFrn. Clarrisse, you are provoking beyond disci'ction. 
 Jabe, remember my order. (Exit m. d. to n.) 
 
 Jab. Would you like to hear a bit of news? 
 
 Clar. If it is of any importance. 
 
 Jab. Ould Smith is in the cabinit courting your ilegant 
 mother. 
 
 Clar. (Rises.) Are ^ou telling the truth? 
 
 Jab. Did vou iver know of a discindant of St. I^atrick 
 
A STUNNINU BLOW. 13 
 
 :iiid VVashiiigtoii to tell a lie? 
 
 Clar. How long a time have they been together? 
 
 Jah. For the last half hour, or less. 
 
 Clar. ( Com en front. ) If that beggar girl should return 
 Iiere, tell her — I'll tell her myself. {Goes up v. — Aside.) - 
 I now ]>elieve that she is in earnest ; and if she is, she will 
 ivalize that her marriage is up hill work. {Exit r>. l.) 
 
 Jah. {Laughs.) The young one is after ould Smith's 
 money, and is jealous of her mother. Its a real good time 
 I have watching the two. {Bell rings. ) Another summons 
 to the door for the discharged attindant. I'll serve on if 
 I am out of place. {Exits m. d. to l.) 
 
 {Enter ^Iks. Vinton and Elias Smith k, 1. k. 
 
 Elias S. My dear Fanny, I can scarcely express my 
 joy upon this occasion of the union of our hearts and 
 minds. It is as I long have wished, and I hope that this 
 beoiimino- will have no end. But will the children not 
 object to our marriage? 
 
 Mrs. V. Dear Elias, they will gladly receive you as 
 their father. {They sit on sofa.) 
 
 Elias S. This Irishman, what of him? 
 
 Mrs. V, The sooner -he is out of our way the l)etter 
 for us. He is a meddler, and shall go at once. 
 
 Elias S. Thank you, Fanny. Another matter, and 
 then all will be smoothe before us. Your husband, just 
 before he died, desired to have an interview with me, but 
 which was pi'evented by his sudden death. Had the inter- 
 view taken place, it is my belief that he would have given 
 into my possession a package of papers tied with a red 
 cord, as those papers related only to our bank affairs. I 
 now ask you, dear P^anny, to deliver the package to me, 
 that I may use them in closing up the last of the tedious 
 cases imi)osed upon us by our closing our bank. 
 
 Mrs. V. I think I remember seeing such a package in 
 the west room. I will search for it at once. There is 
 nothing I will not do for you. [^Exit \i. 1. e.] 
 
 Elias S. My intrigue begins to work. The old fly is 
 in the web of the old spider, as it were. Let me get hold 
 of those papers, and 1 will see her hanged before 1 will 
 marry her. My possession of that package is my onl}' 
 salvation, and until I get the damning proofs I will be in 
 
14 ^ A STr>'xtN(; r.Low. 
 
 torture, now that that scheming* Irish devil seems to knoAv 
 so mnch. {Mises and walks.) I must keep even })ace 
 with justice and at every opportunity dispose of her minions 
 to save myself. Self preservation is my first law. A 
 hired vilUan will silence forever tlie Irish dog. and fire will 
 consume all written evidence. 1 must not fail. Twill not 
 fail! [Enter Mus. Vixtox- u. 1. e. 
 
 Jfns. V. It is not there. I nmst have seen it some 
 where else. I will searc-h for it at a more convenient 
 opportunity. 
 
 Elias S. A bad l)eginning makes a good ending. Do 
 not mind, Fanny, hut if possible let me have tlie [package 
 I)}' this time to-morrow. 
 
 {E titer Clauius^k and Vkha d. l. 
 
 Clar. 1 am too glad for contentiHl expi-ession to see 
 3'ou, Mr. Smith. I have the honor, too, of presenting to 
 you a new nursery flower of exquisite loveliness — my new 
 maid. Vera Saville. [Smith starts.^ I thought you would 
 be struck with her beauty. She was determined she would 
 not meet you, but my pursuasion prevailed, as 1 wished tt) 
 give your eyes a feast they have not enjoyed for many 
 3'ears. There, you may kiss my liand. [He does »s'o.] That 
 is not the first time you have done so, and 1 hope you will 
 be free in doing so quite often. \'era dear, get me a 
 chair ; Mr. Smith, so polite iK'fore he loved, is ungallant 
 enough to not offer me one. [Vera places climr l. c. 
 CLAmMSSE .s'it9.] My fan, \'era, from the tal)le. [Vera 
 gets fan.'] Now, dear, fan me. This, mother is one of 
 the luxui'ies alibrded by a maid. I knew you were here 
 Mr. Smitli. You and mother have been enjoying a pro- 
 longed tete in the cabinet. I would have presented 
 n\yself, but mother requested me not to intrude when you 
 were together. 
 
 Mrs. V. Why. C'lai-risse. you are surely not yourself. 
 You know that — 
 
 Clar. [Internpting.'] You know that that was part 
 of our agreement concerning Mr. Smith. You were to be 
 married first, and then 1 was to have a husband. Vera, 
 fetch me my blue em])roidered silk handkerchief; and while 
 you are in my room, dust my blue mantilla. [Exit \va\\ d. l. ] 
 
 Elias S. [Rises — aside to Mrs. \inton.~\ Then to- 
 
A STUNNTN(i BLOW. 
 
 15 
 
 morrow I shall hv here. \_To Ck(rrisse.'\ I liojx* to see 
 you again very soon. 
 
 Olar. What, going? Well, aurevoir. I will comfort 
 mother. [Simitii goes toirard m. d. Jakkz and Saville 
 ap2)ear at si. d.] 
 
 Jab. Stop a bit, iNIr. Smith. You may be wanted to 
 identify some one. I l)eg the pardon of all of you for 
 introducing this gentleman. [To Mks. Vinton.] He 
 wants to spake to you, your ladyship. 
 
 /Sai\ [Coming forward.^ I desire to have a private 
 interview with you, madam, upon a matter of secret and 
 great importance. 
 
 Mrs. V. I never grant private interviews to strangers. 
 
 Sav. Then I will have to call upon this gentleman, 
 [Pointing to Smith.] to prove that I am not a stranger 
 to him at least. 
 
 Elias aS\ I do not know you, sir. I never saw you 
 before. [Ajjproarhes Saville.] Will you ph'ase explain 
 yourself ? Who are you ? 
 
 /Sav. Look me well in the face and deny seeing me if 
 you can. 
 
 Elias S. {Looks him in the face — horrified and down 
 to front — aside.) My (iod ! Has the grave given up its 
 dead? {Recovers and tnrns toivards Sayua.e.) I never 
 saw you until now. 
 
 Sav. {Sloirly ((nd fixing his eyes vpon Smith's face — 
 ((side to Smith.) You lie I (Smith recoils.) 
 
 END ok act first. 
 
 ^f^CX ZI- 
 
 ScENE. — Superbly furnished buff room at Vinton Place — 
 Large double bay rvindow with buff satin curtains to the 
 fioor — Piano u. — Tiible with books aiidboquet offiowers 
 c. — Large easy chairs h. and l. of table c. — Tete across l. 
 LT. corner — Box room — Pictures on the icalls — Lftrge arch- 
 way hung with buff satin and white lace curtains to the 
 
 ^ fioor L. — Table across n. v. corner. 
 
 [Enter William and Vera archway. 
 Wni. The difference between our aa^es cannot be an 
 
16 A STU>^TftNG BLOW. 
 
 objection. Is it that, Vera? 
 
 Vera. No, Mr. Vinton. 1 do not mean that. 
 
 Wm. Please, Vera, call me Vinton if you will not call 
 me WiUiam. 
 
 Vera. 1 regard you too mueh to not prefix a respect- 
 ful title to your name. But if you really desire it I will 
 call you William when none but us are by. upon one con- 
 dition. 
 
 Wm. [Qvirlb/.^ Name it. 
 
 Vera That you will not speak to me upon the subject 
 you say is nearest your heart, unless you have my per- 
 mission, l^iroe.s to the piano and sits.~\ 
 
 Wm. [Follow! ity her. ^ Say first that we conclude that 
 subject now. W'ra, I cannot resist the impulse of m^' 
 heart's best love. I love you as fondly and sacredly as a 
 man can love a woman. The moment I saw yo.u I felt in 
 m}' heart that 1 had met my soul's kindred being ; and try 
 as I would to disbelieve it, the feeling became a passion at 
 the etfort, and which now seems to consume me in its 
 endeavor to attain to the joy sure to be realized by the 
 longed possession of yourself. Vera darling, pity a heart 
 all yours to do with as you think best for its owner, and 
 for the i>eace and ha})[jiness of your own. Vera, I mean 
 every word 1 say. 
 
 Vera [^TrenmloKstf/.'] Think ol' tiie wide social gulf 
 between us. 
 
 Wm. I do think of it. I liave long thought of it, and 
 the more I [)onder over the undeserved reputation of the 
 uppermost social caste, as com[)ared with the purer lives 
 of the less pretentious, the nearer am I ])eing converted 
 to the belief that moi-e jewels ai'e found among the poor 
 than among the rich. You are filling the humble position 
 of waiting maid to my sister, yet you are a gem only 
 needing your proper brilliant setting to make you eminent 
 for yoiu' real worth among all others. Say that you will 
 be my wife, and thus, darling, permit yourself to leap the 
 gulf which you say lies between us. Please, Vera, say yes. 
 
 Vera. Will you be content(Hl for the present if I speak* 
 three W7)rds in your favor? 
 
 Wm. I i)resume I must submit to the inexorable. 
 
 Vera V nless you willingly sul unit, I will not speak them. 
 
A STUNNINt; BLOW. IJ 
 
 Wm. I fully siihinit. 
 
 Vera I love you. 
 
 Wm. My darling I am now happy. 
 
 Vera I, too, am very ha[)py. {Frii/hteyied.) Should 
 any one have seen us I 
 
 Wm. Have no tear of that, darling. Mother and 
 Clarrisse are in the eity, and Jabez is in his room reading, 
 bis position of my waiting man alone, having exalted his 
 notions of life. He takes eonsiderable li])erty with my 
 books and papers now. Without a fear of interruption 
 please tell me something of your history. 
 
 Vera Believing that you are entitled to know, I will. 
 I was born in Sanfraneiseo, California. My mother died 
 when 1 was fourteen years old — five years ago. My 
 father, always fortunate in making money, aeeumulated 
 eonsiderable property, and at mother's earnest solieitatiou 
 sent me to a boarding sehool when I was twelve years of 
 age. I graduated after my mother died, and our home 
 being desolate, my father and 1 l)oarded at a large hotel. 
 A little over one year ago we started for New York City, 
 we intending to eml)ark for P^ngland where my father's 
 parents live. Just as we were al)out to enter the ears my 
 father reeeived a dispateh to come at once to his mine on 
 Rapid Creek to remain an indefinite time. Telling me to 
 go on to New York to ni}' aunt's on mother's side, and 
 wait there for him, he gave me some money and plaeed me 
 in charge of the conductor. We separated, and 1 then 
 seemed to realize that I was alone in the world. I was 
 very wretched during my ride across the continent. 
 
 Wm. How long was your father detained at his mine? 
 
 Vera I have not seen him since we separated. I 
 believe that he is dead — that he was murdered for his 
 money. 
 
 Wm. Dead I — nun-dered I It does seem jjrobable. 
 The dispatch was a dcjcoy. Did he have nuich money 
 about liini at that time? 
 
 Vera lie had checks and drafts and money to the 
 amount of a])out three hundred thousand dollars. He 
 was never cautious about carrying money, and seemed to 
 take pride in telling how much he carried. 
 
 Wm. Then darling, you are indeed alone. He was 
 
A STUNNINtt BLOW. 18 
 
 led into a trap ])y that dispatch. But how came yon to l)o 
 reduced to the condition you were in when you came here ? 
 
 Yera. V\)o\\ my arrival here I learned that my aunt 
 had lieen dead for two years, and I could not find the 
 address of her husl)and or of any of the family. I li\'ed 
 with some kind peo})le who were exceedinoly hos[)itable as 
 long as my money lasted, and then — well, I took [)oo]- 
 lodgings. I tried to employ myself by teaching nuisic. 
 but my pupils were few, and these finally left me. My 
 jewels and clothes were exhausted, and yet I tried to pro- 
 cure work, and in the last stage of despair I came here. 
 1 wrote many letters to my father but never received a 
 reply. I have thought that his letters were received by 
 the poor people with wdiom 1 lived, and opened by them to 
 obtain the money they undoul)tedly contained, for I had 
 told tliem of my fathers wealth. 
 
 Wm . Xery \)yo\ )a1 )le — very proi)al )le . 
 
 Yera Homeless, moneyless, friendless, and in rags, I 
 came here, and through your kindness I have found a 
 home where I have iH^m at least, contented. 
 
 Wm. But your future life may be made hap})y. Vera 
 darling, if you could enter a home possessing every com- 
 fort would you not be ha})})y? 
 
 Yera That depends. 
 
 Y(m. If 1 were your Jiusl)and, could you? 
 
 Yera Yes, — very happy. 
 
 Wm. Then why postpone your answer. Say that you 
 will be my wife. 
 
 Yera I cannot — yet. Something I cannot conii)re- 
 hend prevents me. That chasm between us seems so wide 
 and deep. I seem to see you on its opposite precipice 
 with your arms extended tow^ard me inviting me to come. 
 I seem to hear your voice pleading in endearing words, 
 but I cannot go to you, although I might go over upon 
 the golden pathway you have laid across it. 1 grow faint 
 at the thought of the ordeal I must endure and feel that 1 
 would wreck your heart with my own, ])y my failure. The 
 time may come wdien we can be all the world to one 
 another ; but not until I can stand securely as your equal 
 in social [)osition, will I even promise to become your wife. 
 
 Wm. Then all hope is banished. 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 19 
 
 Vera No, William. Hope brightens with iny resolve. 
 If my father is not dead, onr nnion is sure. If he is in his 
 orave, his earthl}' possessions still remain, and will be the 
 oolden stairs up which I may pass to reach your level. 
 Why not seek to learn the truth? William, help me to 
 di8[)cl the clouds surrounding my ftither's disappearance. 
 If the result shall be that I am i)arentless ; or if ni}' father 
 is restored to me, if you still love me as you now protest, 
 1 will be your wife. 
 
 Wm. Vera darling, all I have, my time, labor, money, 
 are yours. Such a love as you offer in payment for so 
 little service is A^ortli the risk of my life. We will plan 
 and work together until our effort is rewarded with success — 
 for we will not fail. 
 
 Veni I shall be always at your side to do my share ; 
 and I will try to strengthen your heart to the work by ni}' 
 love. 
 
 {Enter Jabez arcliway. 
 
 Jah. I'm in ; and by this and by that here's a volun- 
 teer into your service, so by your lave I'll promote myself 
 to the p<^sition of high i)rivate in the rear rank, as the 
 soldier 1)oy said whin he was mustered out with a shaved 
 hi'ad to the tune of the dead march, for sthaling. 
 
 Wm. {Sternly.) Were you hid behind that curtain? 
 
 Jah. ' 1 was not hid. I only stood behind it while 3'ou 
 made youi' last remarks ; and whin 1 heard you laying out 
 a campaign, I stipt to the front to serve you, because I 
 knosv the ground you would go over better nor eitlier of 
 you. 
 
 Win. Whrit do you mean? 
 
 J(d). I mean that I can trace the matter asier nor 
 either of you. for I know more of this thing than you think. 
 
 Wm. {Sei.inq him hii the arm.) Tell me what von 
 are! 
 
 Jah. Pinch me gintly, Billy darling. I'm a man. I 
 couldn't hel[) that you know, Billy. If I was a female, I 
 wouldn't be serving 3'ou. 
 
 Wm. {Firmly.) What is your real capacity here? 
 
 Jah. I niver have had my real capacity tried ; but I 
 expect to some tine day bv this and by that. 
 
 Wm. What is vour Inisiness in this house? 
 
20 A STINNIN<; BLOW. 
 
 Jab. 1 am your hired body sui'viiit ; l)ut if you will let 
 me, mebby I can do some good by engaging in tJie inter- 
 prise of searching for the dead man's gold. I'll work when 
 you are asleep, and may startle you some time by giving 
 you the trump card. 
 
 Wm. {Aside to \vai\.) lie seems to understand our 
 intention. 
 
 Jab. It's a deal of trouble I am to you : and by this and 
 by that and by your lave, I'll go to my room and writv' a 
 letter in large type to my deaf mother that she may 
 understand what I'm telling her. When you have any 
 orders for me just sind thim u[) in style h\ tlr.' nagur. with 
 the instruction to give them to me easy. {Exit arch in it/. 
 
 Vera I l)elieve I will feel surer of succeeding with his 
 assistance. He is brave and intelligent; and he has I u'- 
 friended me from the moment I came here from the hot 
 anger of your sister. 
 
 Wm. I am beginning to believe that he is a mystery 
 needing solution. 
 
 Vera I nmst not remain here longer. I have duties to 
 perform before your sister returns. Be careful of exhib- 
 iting any preference for me in her i)resence, to prevent my 
 being- turned away from the house. {Going.) 
 
 W)n. Such an act by her would make me follow yoji — 
 even to the ends of the earth 1 {Exit both qrrhicai/. 
 
 \^E iiter Di^iiLK Black folloived %Jami:s I)AUKA(;n n. 1. k. 
 
 Ding. It don't make no difference. You aint 
 going to make me do what you want. You aint going to 
 toiler me from de sta))le for nothing. You hear me. 
 Ise no common niggar, and I want you to go 'way from 
 here. 
 
 Dar. Look'ee here Mr. Black — 
 
 Ding. How you know my name's Black? 
 
 Dar. 1 guessed it l)y your color, you black imp. See 
 here. 1 aint got no time to fool away listening to youi- 
 jaw, so shut up. I've come here to look for seme pa[)ers 
 the boss wants ; and if I find any loose articles of jewelry, 
 or an}' pocketbooks laying around, I'll just take 'em. 
 
 Ding. Look here. You aint goin' to rol) dis house of 
 any ting while dis yere nigger's 'round. You hear me. 
 
 Dar. \_Leveling revolver.'} See here my African rooster. 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 21 
 
 ,i>:et behind that sofa, and don't show your ugly black head 
 above it, or I'll blow an augur hole through it just between 
 the eyes. Now git, you blaggard ! [Dingle Qmich 
 fricjhtened does .90.] 
 
 Ding.^ [jShoiving his head.^ Look here. You aint 
 going to rob dis house while I'm 'round. 
 
 Dar. [Uj) to sofa.^ If you open that eavern of yours 
 again, I'll stuff it full of your own wool. [Forres hhn 
 down, then opens drawer in table. ~\ 
 
 Ding. \_Aside.^ He can't scare me. I aint going to 
 stay behind here. [^Po2)s doivyi as Dakragii turns.^ 
 
 Bar. [Searching room.'] The papers aint in this 
 I'oom, and there aint no jewelry here. I'll search that 
 other I'oom, and the other part of the house. [Exits 
 archway. I)in(;lk conies from behind sofa.] 
 
 Ding. He don't catch me no more. You hear me. 
 '[Exits \i. 1 . E. hastily.] 
 
 [EnterMwr^. \'inton and William l. 1. e. 
 
 Mrs. V. I am not so much astonished as I am grieved 
 at your devotion to that jade. She has not been here a 
 month, and you seem to have gone mad over her doll 
 faced beauty. 
 
 Wm. Is it for this that you wished to speak to me? 
 
 Mrs. V. Partly. I wish to admonish you for your 
 fault of admiring every woman possessing a pretty face, 
 especially in tliis instance. Who and what is she? 
 
 Wm. Slie is a lady worthy of any man's love. 
 
 Mrs. V. Infatuation ! I am ashamed of you. What 
 do you know of her ? 
 
 Wm. En )ugh. 
 
 Mrs. V. She will do to esteem — to play with. 
 
 Wm. Why, I love her. I love the ver}' ground she 
 treads. I love her passionately with my whole heart. 
 
 Mrs. V. I'his is , nonsense. You are old enough to 
 know the difference l)etween the heart and the mind, and 
 I sliall hoi)e that this regard is not of the heart but of the 
 brain. You shall go abroad for a while. Absence will 
 let you foiget lier. 
 
 Wm. Sei)aration will l)e misery ; and absent myself 
 from her I will not. 
 
 Mrs. V. Enough of this. I now wish to apprise you 
 
22 A STUNNf^ffi BLOW. 
 
 of my intended marriage to Elias Smith. 
 
 Wm. {Surprised — aside.) To help my cause, I must 
 humour her. If she thwarts me, I will thwart her. {Aland. ) 
 Is this a brief, or a long- contemplated matter with you ? 
 
 3Irs. V. It is neither. I think I ought to marry foi" 
 several reasons, although it is not necessary that 1 should 
 mention them. 1 have promised him. 
 
 W?/i. You know my opinion of the man. I do not 
 like him, and never have liked him. This is your aifair, 
 not mine. My lo^'e aifair is my oavu. 
 
 jTfr.s*. V. But your choice is not of your social caste. 
 
 W/». Caste again ! Mother, I will not hear of that 
 rule. True distinction is in the heart, not in the pocket. 
 Your choice has wealth, l)ut what is his character? My 
 choice has all the attril)utes of virtue, l)ut no money. I 
 would not exchange. {E.vits l. 1. e.) 
 
 Mrs. V. I liave the power, my son, to stop your 
 wooing, and I shall do it. What ! Bring into my family 
 an outcast perhaps born of criminal parents ! Heaven 
 forbid! I will separate you. {Exits k. 1. e.) 
 
 {Enter l)AiiHA(iii archivay, cautiously. 
 
 Bar. { Taking from his pocJcet a jwarl necklace. ) This 
 will bring something handsome if its the genuine stuff. 
 {Puts it ill his poeket.) I guess the people here expect 
 visitoi'S from gentlemen like me. 'cause they've got theii* 
 valual )les out of sight ; l)ut these pearls they forgot. {Look^ 
 behind sofa.) The nigger's gone, and I'll bet my neck- 
 lace he has set a watch for me at the doors. Guess I'll 
 give 'em the slip. \_Goes to window and tries to open it.'] 
 Them secret ketches have got me. 
 \_Enter Jabez archway suddenly, and seizes DAi{UA<iii and 
 
 throws him round. 
 
 Jab. [iSnr])riied.] Jim Dan-agh ! 
 
 JJar. [/Sur2)rised.'] Jabez O'Neil I \_These are spoken 
 si)mdtaneonsly.~\ 
 
 Jab. You natural born thafe of the world, I've got 
 you ! [DAKKACiH attempts to draw revolver.] Drop your 
 hands ! I've got you covered from my pocket. 
 
 Bar. I'm your prisoner ; and now what are you going 
 to do with me? I aint never done you any harm, and I'm 
 here Just to get the architecture of the interior of this 
 
A STINNIXC; HLOW. gg 
 
 house, as it were. 
 
 Jab. You're a lyiug skuuk. You're a robber, and a 
 whistle from me will bring a '"cop." But I'll let you oti* 
 with the promise niver to eome here again. 
 
 Dar. Thank you. 
 
 Jab. Now go ! \_Points m. 1. e.] 
 
 Dar. And you wont let any one sick the perler's onto 
 me while I'm going? 
 
 Jab. I saved your life at Danite mine, and I'll do you 
 another good turn now. 
 
 Dar. \_Go'uri.'] You did. Thank you, pard. 
 
 Jah. Sto}). Have you got anything that don't belong 
 to you, you tliafe? 
 
 Dar. Not a thing. I couldn't find anything small 
 enough to git into my p<K*kets. I'm sorry I aint, 'cause 
 I'd ])e charital)le and give it back. I'm bad, but I aint 
 lied. I'm ol)liged to vou, pard. (iood dav. [Exits 
 \i. 1. E.] 
 
 Diiaj. \_Withont.^^ Oh-h-h! I'm killed I Oh-h-h ! 
 [lifui.^ in K. 1. E. wildly, his left cheek bloody.'] 
 
 Jah. What's the matter with you, you Ijlack imp? 
 
 Ding. {Brokenly.) That ])ugglar knock my teef out. 
 I knew lie was in here, and he stayed so long I thought 
 mel)bv he was stealing sumfin, dat I was peepin in to see, 
 when he came out and knock me. 
 
 Jah. How the divil did you know he was here? 
 
 Ding. He make me come here from de sta])le and put 
 me ahind dat sofia ; and when he went into dat room I 
 jist outen dis room. 
 
 Jah. Why didn't you tell some one he was here, vou 
 black divil? 
 
 Ding. Dere was nobody 'round to tell. 
 
 Jah. (io down to the stable and wash your face. 
 
 Ding. {Going.) ^e aint gwine to hit me again. You 
 hear me. {Exit r. 1. e. cautiou.'th/.) 
 
 ,)ab. I'm in a quandary thinking what brought Jim 
 Darragh on here. A bigger thafe nivar lived in the gold 
 diggins than that same Jim Darragh, and it's a good rid- 
 dance to have the S})alpeen gone. {iSits at table.) 
 
 Clar. {Without.) Come into the music room, sir, 
 where no one enters to remain without my permission. 
 
24 A STUNTING BLOW. 
 
 Jab. Just listen to her. Tlie divil will be to pay thin 
 if she spakes the trnth. 
 
 {CLARiusiE, followed 62/ Saville, enters archway. 
 
 Clar. ()ceup3' that large chair, sir, while I lay aside 
 my wraps. {Sees Jabez.) I am astonished! 
 
 Jab. And so am I. Great minds rnn in the same 
 channel, as my mother nsed to say whin one of the 
 children wonld chase the pig between the rows of 
 praties. 
 
 Clar. I can scarcely believe my sight {puts on eyeglass) 
 that one so vulgar would dare to intrude upon my i)rivacy 
 here since my positive order to the contrary. 
 
 Jab. (Rises.) Thin belave your sinses, for they are 
 not asdecavin^J" ginerally as glasses. (To Saville.^ The 
 top of the afternoon to you. sir. (Offers him the cJiair — 
 Saville .svY^' — aside to SAAiLLE.y) I want to spake a word 
 to you. 
 
 Sav. (To C'LAUKissE.y) Can I trouble you for a glass 
 of water? 
 
 Clar. Certainly, sir. Jal)ez, bring the gentleman it. 
 
 Sav. Bronght by yourself it will be the more refresh- 
 ing. 
 
 Clar. I believe some gentlemen become greater flat- 
 terers than they at tirst intend. However, I will oblige 
 yon, — just ^o please you. (Exit archway.) 
 
 fJab. You're a nate one to git rid of the likes of lier. 
 By this and l)y that, how does she progress in winning 
 your heart ? 
 
 Sav. Slie knows me as JMr. Williams, of California, 
 and — well, she is disgustingly sentimental. What have 
 you to connnunicate? 
 
 Jab. (Tailing aero f.s the table.) Old Smith and the 
 old woman intind to marry; and I belave the daughter is 
 jealous, and would rather have him for her hus]>and than 
 for her father, nnless she can git yoursilf. 
 
 Sav. Bah! What of Vera? I must see her soon. 
 When will we be able to end this masquerade? 
 
 J ah. Tlie laws jewelry is making. The chain of evi- 
 dince is almost done. At one end is justice, and at the 
 other is ould Smith wit i his bracelets on. Kaj)e sharp 
 eyes about you, and wait till I sav ready. Whist? She's 
 
A STrXNIN(> BLf)W. 25 
 
 t'oinino;. To prevent a catiistroplie, don't lot her call 
 yonr dani>hter. (Changes his manner.) You're a funny 
 one, you are. f Laughs.) I would liketosarvea rooster 
 like you. 
 
 [Enter Clarkisse icith water. 
 
 Chir. Jabez I am ashamed of you. Such language to 
 my guests is an insult to me. 
 
 Jab. I beg your pardon, thin ; but did you hear what 
 lie was saying to me, you would say mine wasn't so fowl 
 as you think, I'll lave it to himsilf. 
 
 Sav. Irishmen are naturally strange in their humours, 
 and we nuist forgive them. {Takes glaas of water.) 1 
 drink to your health, IVIiss \lnton — to your life as pure 
 to view as is this crystal water, 
 
 Jah. That's a gallant sentiment worth putting into a 
 glass. But can I go and lave you alone with this gintle- 
 man? 
 
 Clar. (Hanghtih/.) Decidedly! {Uses her eyeglasses.) 
 You, my brother's servant, can go. This is the place of 
 exit. ( Up to archway.) 
 
 Jah. I lave you without a [n-otictor to voui' innnacu- 
 late character, and without an adviser to your extreme 
 liigh timper, alone with a nian you will be glad to know, 
 and be mad whin you do. {Exit archway.) 
 
 Clar. His language is enigmatical 1 must confess, l)ut 
 I trust you implicity sir. You Avill please overlook my 
 indisci'cet exhil)ltion of illhumour toward him, will you 
 not? lie is extremely provoking sometimes. 
 
 Sac. Perha[)s you ha\e allowed him to speak without 
 check. 
 
 Clar. We have : ]»ut let us dro}) him as a su1)ject. You 
 had begun to describe our box at the Opera. Pray 
 continue. 
 
 Sav. My attention was attracted more to your box 
 than to the stage. What I l)eheld w^as alarmingly signif- 
 cant anil beautiful. You seemed all that Avas lovely in 
 woman in your satins and jewels. You.r mother looked a 
 {Jrand Duchess. Her escort, the Honorable Elias Smith, 
 appeared a nobleman in love; and amid the Persian dra- 
 peries of your surroundings, you was resplendant. I 
 came, I saw. you conquered. It was then I realized the 
 
2() A STINNI\(; HLOW. 
 
 utter destitution of my lone condition, and determined to 
 possess the home and its eveiy comfort justly due to me. 
 
 Jab. {Appean'ug at archway.) May I come in? 
 
 Clar. How dare vou ! {Aside.) One moment more 
 and he would have proposed. (Aloud.) Answer me I 
 How dare you enter without knocking ? 
 
 Jab. (Entering.) I couldn't knock on the curtains 
 for their likeness to yoursilf — ])eauty and softness. 
 
 Clar. {/Sharpb/.) What have you to connnunicate i" 
 
 Jab. Your mother and Billy are having a hiiiii old set- 
 to in the library room, and Billy told me to tell you to 
 come and defind yoursilf, that he had all ' he could do 
 taking his own part with her. 
 
 Clar. Your ima iination has ovei'come your tongue. 
 
 Jab. Bad luck to me if I have told you a lie. (Exits 
 angrili/.) 
 
 Sav. You have greatly. offended him. 
 
 Clar. Oh, he will soon get over it. I presume 1 nmst 
 learn the truth of .Jabez' statement. When I return I 
 shall expect you to begin whc're you left off. (Exitfi arch- 
 ivay.) 
 
 Sav. It is a relief to be freed from he)-. Were it not 
 for the righting of my wrongs, I would lly from her 
 detestable presence. Were it not for my daughter, I would 
 let them enjoy their posessions. Yes, my daughter, you 
 shall have your own ! {SJtort jjause.) So it is true that 
 Smith will marry D. H. Vinton's widow. ^Vhat can be 
 his motive? Humph I No matter what his motive is. Jf 
 he wishes to obtain the paj>ers he is too late — too late. I 
 am tired wearing this mask, and I wish 1 could end my 
 work without delay. My nature disap})roves of my 
 deception, but justice must be done. 
 
 (Enter Jahez arrJuvay hasti/y. 
 
 Jab. 1 just met your d^iughter in the hall. She is de- 
 termined to lave here. It wont do any harm for you to 
 meet, for we can tell her to keep still and not to know you 
 until we give her the privilege. It's my advice to let her 
 find 3'ou. She must not go out into the world again. I'll 
 fetch her to 30U. {Exits hastily.) 
 
 Sav, The blessed hour I ha\e [)rayed for has come at 
 last. Separated by fate for months that seem as as 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 27 
 
 many years, it is joy to meet. Oil, my daughter, yon are 
 restored to yonr father at hist ! 
 
 Vera. (Withont.) (4ood, kind Jabez, say again that 
 yon speak the truth. 
 
 Jab. [ Without.'] It is indade the truth I've tould you. 
 
 Vera Then please do not keep me in suspense. Oh, 
 take me to my father I 
 
 Sav. Her voice I It lias echoed in my heart so long. 
 [\"eha enters timidhi foUoiced by Jabez. 
 
 Vera .Ial)ez, you have deceived me ! 
 
 Sav. My daughter ! M}- dear daughter ! 
 
 Vera l^'j^riiKjing in his arms.] Father I Father ! 
 Vou have come I You have come ! 
 
 Sar. Yes, Vera darKng, I have come at last. 
 
 Jab. \^Wlien eurtain half doivn — aside.] It's a pity 
 tlie young catamaran couldn't see this. 
 
 END OF ACT SECOND. 
 
 ^A^CT III- 
 
 ScENE. — Fancy Garden at Vinton Place — Terrace and 
 balcony fence witli steps C. and brilliant lamps R. and 
 L. of steps — Rvstic seats R. and L. of stage — Novelty of 
 baloon ascension, fireivorks in the distance — Orchestra 
 nnisic in the distance — Toum clock strikes ten — Dee2^ 
 stage required. 
 
 [Enter .James Dakka(4h cautiously l. 2. e. 
 Dar. I'm on time by the strike of the clock. I wonder 
 what's in the mind of the boss now, that he wants to meet 
 nie here afore I do the job? The last job I done for him 
 got me on Blackwell for three months, and I remembers 
 !iim for it, and if it's a life time I'll get even with him. 
 Shoot me for a sai'dine if I don't. Something's going on 
 here. I hears the music in the house, and I'd like to take 
 a peep at the fine Indies and gents as is fiinging theirselves 
 dizzy in the mazy dance as it were. Two men are coming 
 out of the house, and — they're coming this way. I 
 nnisn't let Jabe O'Neil catch me, foi' he wont let me off 
 next time. I'll step aside and hear what they're talking 
 of, and so's thev'll not invite me into the party. \_Exit 
 
 E. I. E. 
 
28 A STINNING BLOW. 
 
 [Eiiter Jabez and Sayille terrace sfepa and eoiae doivn . 
 
 Jab. Yis, Billy gave ine a holiday to-night, and I'm 
 taking it. 
 
 SaA\ What of Vera? 
 
 Jab. She's the queen of the party ; and iyery one of the 
 ladies is watching her like a cat intintly gazing at the 
 front door of a rat's residence. It was a hard fight Billy 
 had with his mother and sister to get her into the conii)any 
 as the foine lady she is. He swore that he'd lave and 
 niver come back unless she was made one equal with the 
 best of the fine ones, and l»y this and by that she is now 
 recaving all the compliments and attintion from the gin- 
 tlemen. 
 
 Sav. Have all the guests arrived? 
 
 Jab. No, sir ; some of the bigbugs won't come till 
 eleven o'clock, just to make a buzz whin they are 
 announced. The McFarran's who smell of Piinisylvania 
 coal oil are that way ; and the Conovei"'s and thim, are the 
 first to go home just to kape up a hullabaloo at the party. 
 Whist I There's something among the shrubbery. My 
 ears havi'nt lost their shai'pnc ss yet. I belave it is only a 
 dog. or one of the sarvints, l)ut to make sure I'll go and 
 see. [AV'/^v L. 2. K.] Haiti Howld iij) your hands, 
 you snaking villain, or I'll blow off the top of your head 
 with my blowing ma"hine I've got fornist you. Kai)e u[) 
 your hands and march into the light while I guard you 
 from harm in the back of you. March, you thafe I \_Enter 
 l)AKKA(iJi, hia hands over JiLs head, folhm-ed by Jabez ^^nth 
 leveled revolver l. 2. e. — Saville moves to n. c] Now 
 thin you skulking divil — What I Is it you Jim Dan-agh? 
 
 Sav. flames Darragh I 
 
 Jab. It's him ! What are you in this garden for at 
 this time of night, you blaggard? 
 
 Dar. I came in to enjoy the i)arty from the outside. 
 
 Jab. You're a liar. Don't you be making any motions 
 toward your i)Ocket. Tp with your murdering hands, while 
 Mr. vSaville [)icks your pockets. 
 
 Dar. Is that you John vSaville ? Well, I'll be— blessed 
 for a sardine if I aint got into good company for once. 
 
 Jab. And you may be proud of it, you dirty thafe. 
 Mr. Saville, just see if you can find any marbles or tops 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 29 
 
 ill his pockets. [Saville takeii from hifi jwckets a large 
 knife., a revolver, a billy, a hunch of skeleton kei/s, and a 
 letter — during which Jauez talks adlibitum..'] So you've 
 oonie to a party prepared for eomi)any, you rol)l>er! Now 
 thin sit oil that solia. [j^ointing k.] and V\\ tie you to it to 
 keep you from lalUu'y oif. [_Tears a. ivhite handkerchief 
 in halves and ties Daiikagh's arms to the seat.^ There 
 you are uiy kiddie huek. The ladies will be glad to see 
 you safe and iu full dress for the i)arty. 
 
 Sav. [^Beckons Jahez.] The indications prove that 
 Smith is at the hotcom of some serious mischief against 
 us. The address of this letter is in his peculiar business- 
 like penmansliip. [Both examine letter.^ 
 
 Eli((s S. [Aj>2)earing behind DAiuiA(iii.] There! 1 
 have cut you loose. P^scape, but remain in the garden. 
 I'll give you a hundred dollars for that letter. [Retires — 
 1)auka<;ii cautiously exits u. 2. e.] 
 
 J(dj. Let's read it and see what he says. [(>/)e/^8 letter 
 and reads' aloud.'] "Come to Vinton Place to-night at 
 ten sharp. Be at the terrace steps. You must enter the 
 house. Be j)rei)ared for blood. E. Smith." (Spoken.) 
 The treac'iiei-ous ould tliafe of the world ! See here my 
 would-be burglar — what I {Ruits to se<(t.) I tied him fast 
 enough, and here are the rags I tied him with, and they're 
 cut! by the horned si)oon of the sea sarpint. (Goes to 
 Savii.lk.) 
 
 jSav. This is Smith's act. He knows his unsafe con- 
 dition, and is making a desperate defense. Jim Darragh 
 is a tit tool, for he would take a life if well paid for it. 
 We must checkmate them. 
 
 J(dj. I'll search the garden luit I'll find Darragh ! 
 
 Sar. Let the scou-ndrel go. He will not attempt to 
 enter the house to-night. 
 
 Jab. If lie does, lie will come to an Irish wake. (They 
 go up c.) 
 (Enter C'lakijissk and (t1e<>k(;e C'anfielu arm in arm c. 
 
 frouf K. — Jai'.ez .'■iteps to l. 
 
 Chtr. Ah, Mr. Williams, that you purposely absented 
 yourself, 1 am convinced. I have watched for your appear- 
 ance quite anxiously, and induced Mr. Canfield to accom- 
 l)any me through the grounds with the hope that I might 
 
30 A STU?W1N<; HLOW. 
 
 meet yoii. Is it not so, Mr. ('anfield? 
 
 Can. True, true. 
 
 Sav. You must attach all the blame to my persuasive 
 cigar. 
 
 Clar. {Piqued.) Mr. Cantield has been (]uite devoted 
 however. Haven't you, Mi-. Caudeld? 
 
 Can. True — true. 
 
 Jah. (Aside.) (ioosey. goosey gander, whither do 
 you wander?, 
 
 Clar. (Aside to Savii.le.) Is the gentleman theiv 
 your friend? Fie! for not introducing us. 
 
 Sav. (Cros,3es to Jabkz — aside to him.) She wants to 
 be introduced to you. She takes you for some one of dis- 
 tinction, no doubt. 
 
 Jab. (Aside to Savillk.) She'll break something 
 whin she hears my name. (They (ulvnnce.) 
 
 8av. Allow m.e Miss ^'inton to introduce my friend 
 Mr. Jabez O'Neil. (Clahkissk disgusted.) 
 
 Jab. (With low bow.) Your estamed brother's wait- 
 ing man by your gracious lave, your ladyship. ]Mr. 
 Williams and mysilf are frinds and 1 aint ashamed of 
 him either. 
 
 Clar. The shame shoukl bewith Mr. AVilliams. Should 
 it not, Mr. Cantiekl? 
 
 Can. True, true. 
 
 Jab. (Aside — iuiitatintj.) --'I'me, true." 
 
 Clar. I cannot understand this clandestine interview 
 between you. A gentleman and a servant in no way 
 related to one another found at a late hour in the darkness 
 of a city garden, augurs mischief. Does it not, Mr. 
 Cantield? 
 
 Ca7i. True, true. 
 
 Jab. A young lady and her man-poodle trollicking at 
 a. late hour at night in the darkness of a city garden aftej- 
 a man, is a disgrace to the man. Is it not. Mr. C'anlkdd? 
 
 Can. (Frightened.) T-t-true, true. 
 
 Jab. I'm tliinking you're the fool you look. 
 
 Sav. With your permission, Miss Mnton, I will see 
 you upon my return to the house. Until then, aurevoir. 
 
 Jab. Yis, ma'am. We'll see you later. Tata. (Both 
 going.) 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 31 
 
 Clar. Mr. C'aiitield and I will return at once, as we 
 are afraid to remain alone in the garden, since we saw 
 that hoi-rid lookino- man's face at the i)atli overgrown with 
 lilac bushes. Are we not, Mr. C'anfield? 
 
 Can. True, true. 
 
 Jab. ]\y this and by that you were sparking in the 
 dark. Are you sure that what 3'ou saw was not the 
 shadow of your poodle? 
 
 Chir. I shall report you to your master. Come, Mr. 
 C'anfield, let us i)recede Mr. Williams to the house. [On 
 the terrace .s^ej>.s'.] I shall ex[)ect you very soon Mr. 
 Williams. I have something to communicate to you. Mr. 
 C'anfield will have become tired of me b}' the time you 
 arrive. Will you not, Mr. Caulield? 
 
 Can. True, true. 
 
 Clar. Mr. Williams. I shall be quite restless until you 
 come. [Exit both u.^ 
 
 Jab. liad luck to her. l)ut she's awfully lovesick. 
 
 /Sav. Darragh is secreted in the garden evidently with 
 the design indicated by the letter We must keep, watch 
 and secure him. 
 
 Jab. It'll be a tight place I'll put hhn in if I catch 
 him. Whisper. Let us divide oursilves and take the 
 garden l)etween us. [Exit both c. to r.] 
 
 [Enter Daiiraoh r. to e. 
 
 Dar. Jim Darragh can take care of himself, and don't 
 you two forget it. 1 followed you here over a year ago, 
 but I lost you. and now that I have found you, I'm going 
 to have some of the gold nuggets you've got. You bet 
 your last pan of dirt on that to win. [Looks off r.] I 
 wish them party folks would stay in the house and not 
 keep a gentleman like me a dodging them. That young 
 feller's taking his gal out to cool lier otf, since dancing 
 must be hot work a night like this. I don't like these 
 snob parties. This is 'the first one I ever attended. Old 
 Smith invited me as his pard. I must keep a sharp eye 
 open for that Irishman. [Looks around cautiously .~\ 
 
 Elias jS. [Appearing r. 2. k.] Hist ! Darragh ! 
 [Comes for ward. ~\ We can talk here unmolested. I must 
 liave that letter. I'll give you two hundred for it. 
 
 Dar. Make it three and it's yours if Irisher has to join 
 
32 A STUNNiNG BLOW. 
 
 his snake charmer St. Patrick. 
 
 Elias /S. [^ Aside. ^ He has me in his power. If I 
 can secure the girl I can bring- her father to terms. I'll 
 doit. l^AIoud.']' Darragh, can you safely steal a young- 
 lady from these grounds, with my assistance? 
 
 Bar. If there's money enough ]>aid me for doing it. 
 
 Mias S. I'll give yon five hundred dollars. 
 
 Dar. Make it a thousand, and I'll take her away to 
 stay. I'll marry her, and then she'll l)e as good as dead. 
 Spit it out into my hand afore I change my mind. 
 
 Elias jS. I will give 3^ou six hundred dollars. 
 
 Dar. I've changed my mind. I wants two thousand, oi* 
 nothing. 
 
 Elias iS. Would you rob be? 
 
 Dar. I wouldn't rob you; but I'd see you dannied 
 afore I'd steal a girl, even if she was a nigger, for you for 
 less. You deserted me once, and I can't forget it. 
 
 Elias JS. IlavTMi't I always paid you? 
 
 Dar. Yes ; but you never cared about whnt b.'cami' of 
 me after I'd done your dirty work. 
 
 Elias iS. I hired you. 
 
 Dar. And you kept your villainous tongue still when 
 1 was })unished for your crime. It should have been you 
 instead of me on Blockwell. I worked fen- your money. 
 Y''ou hired me to keej) dark a bloody crime you connnitted 
 that would have strung you up. But I didn't peach agin 
 yon, did I, say? I was the honoral)le one of us two 
 villains in that lay out. I aint going to keep still the next 
 time. I'll holler like a mule agin you if you don't stand 
 by me. I've got the papers to send you up at a neck-tie 
 party, and I'll tling 'em out. So give me the two thous- 
 and for making the girl skip. That's biz atween us hon- 
 orable villains. 
 
 Elias S. I will give you one thousand dollars. 
 
 Dar. I've changed my mind. I now wants three 
 thousand, and if you don't give me three, I'll yell like a 
 Digger Indian agin you, and show my i)apers. So my 
 chippy, say its three, and I'm your body snatcher. 
 
 Elias S. {attempt i)ig to draw revolver. ) I have a mind 
 to shoot you, you contemtil)le scoundrel ! 
 
 Dar. {Langhs.) But you can't. Smithy. You aint 
 
A ST[ NNIXd I5LOW. 33 
 
 got your shooters. [Produces revolver.) Yon gave me 
 this one wlien yon ent nie loose from the seat ; and yonr other 
 one the Irishcr took from me. Hadn't you better say 
 you'll give me three afore; I change my mind. 
 
 Elias S. No ! I will do witliont the girl. 
 
 Dar. {Going.) Do your own kidnap[)ing then. I'm 
 off. You'll disgorge to me more than that anyway to keep 
 me from showing the i)apers you wrote me. 
 
 Elkfs S. Stop. [Aside.'] Vile circumstances threaten 
 to ruin me. I must submit to his extortion. {Aloud.) 
 AVell, I will give you the three thousand when the work is 
 done. 
 
 Dar. Pay as you go, Smithy. Never go in debt. 
 Smithy. CUve me your check and I'll be satisfied. 
 
 (SMrni ivrites checJi and IhukU to Dakkagh. 
 
 Elias S. There, now do your part. 
 
 JJar. {Fids check in his pochet.) All right, pard. 
 When I get the money on that, I'll dress up and be a gent 
 like you. Trot out your damsel and she skips into a 
 matrimonial matinee, you bet. What's her name? I 
 alius wants to know the name of the thing I'm to waltz 
 off lively. 
 
 Elias S. Her name is Vera Saville. 
 
 Dar. {Aside.) Phew! She's John Saville's daughter. 
 I'll make him give me ten thousand to get her again. 
 {Aloud.) I thought her name sounded familiar; but it 
 don't. Never heard it before. Leave it all to me. Smithy, 
 ;ind she wont l)other you. 
 
 Elias S. Hist I I thought I heard a step. Kemem- 
 ber, the girl first, and tlien the note. {Exit r. 2. e.) 
 
 Dar. I •wouldn't be as mean as you, Smith}^, for a 
 whole mine. It nnist be hard to l)e as big a fool as you. 
 You aint fit to tend to business. Youv'e stuck your foot 
 inter a trap to-night that'll end your days in a striped 
 suit of clothes. I've got your money, bad papers, and 
 am g<^ing to get the girl. 
 
 [Enter Smith ha still/ and cautiously k. 2. e. 
 
 Elias S. {Loic.) Tlie girl and her lover are coming 
 this way. We will have to secure both to get awa}' with 
 her. I'll get shawls for hooding. Come. The}^ are 
 here. {Exit both r. 2. e.) 
 
34 A STUNNING BLOW. 
 
 {Enter Vera and William c. from u. 
 
 Vera Indeed it will be a surprise to you. aud a pleas- 
 ant one ; l)ut you must be patient. 
 
 Wni. It seems strange tbat I so fortunately situated 
 as far as tbis world oc)es. sbould be as disheartened as I 
 am to-iiigbt. 
 
 Vera What can have bai)p!:'ned? You are surrounded 
 to-night by brilliant friends who liave made you their 
 especial mark of favor. AddL-d to thi' plenty you enjoy, 
 is not this soeial distinetion suilieient to lill^ your cup of 
 liappiness? — to say nothing of my love wliieh you so i)er- 
 sistently, ai'dently, and suceessfuUy pleaded for. I think 
 you ought to be perfectly hapi)y. 
 
 Win, And yet 1 am not. Fitful clouds lower oscr my 
 present existence. My home is not what it has been. 
 Hot and angry have been the scenes ])etween my mother 
 and sister and myself on your account, and there is ncnv 
 extreme diflidence between us. 
 
 Ver(( I then am a bone of cont^'ution. Indeed I am 
 sorry. I will Iti' so no more. I will b'ave Vinton Place 
 never to return. I will go at once. Youi- love for me 
 cannot be sincere, where it is so easily saddened, (Jood- 
 bye, William. I will go to-night, and alone 1 am un- 
 happy now. 
 
 Win. You shall not go alone. You shall not go to- 
 night. Henceforth our lives, our souls are intertwined by 
 love, and nothing shall part us. I will break the lilial tie 
 which binds me to those I call mother and sister to gain a 
 greater, fonder, and moiv sa;-red one. I will I'enounceall 
 to be with you whom I love with a j)assion as strong as 
 death. I am tired of my once h;ipj)y hoihe. aud will 
 leave it, for your sake. Ihit. \'ei-a. even with all th;> un- 
 happiness existing in it, there is no nec^'ssity comp.dliiig 
 you to go away. Let me bear the apparent hate of those 
 who should love me insti-ad. alone for a little while 3'et. 
 Remain here, but show no sign of your knowledge of any 
 existing illfeeling, until I speak to you again of it. Events 
 may occur which may change tlrv entire arrangement of 
 our house. It seems that tlu' dai'k inexorable baud of 
 fate is playing at dice with our att'airs, and noiseb ssly is 
 turniuu' the wheel of our d stinv. m;^asurini>: out to us sad- 
 
A sTrNNiN(; r.Low. 35 
 
 iK'Ss and niiscrv to-day, and perhaps to-morrow peace and 
 love. I lioj)e Vera, that this to-morrow for us will soon 
 come. 
 
 Vera I will not go away lintil you tell me to. and 
 tlien — I want you to g'o with me. 
 
 Wtii. I will ! I will ! I am free to go, 1 am not 
 welcome here because I love you once an out cast, but 
 now my pride and \)v\7.e I Your secret will be mine soon, 
 and then we will l)e happier than we are in our present 
 happiness. I^et us sit down. \^Thei/ sloivly move to l. 
 Enter Smith and 1)aim;a(4II rapidly w. 2. e. I)AKRA(iri 
 throws .shawl over William's head, aitd Smith one over 
 Vera's head — struggle — Vera screams. ~\ 
 
 Elias S. Do that again and I'll choke you I [He 
 carries her to terrace where he is met by Saville with lev- 
 eled revolver — I)arra(4H and William 'strnggling — Jabez 
 rushes on l. 2. e. and throws Dari:a<;ii round to r. c. and 
 holds him down. Willi a.m levels revolver at S:\htii — 
 picture.'] 
 
 Jab. I saved your black life once, let you go free of 
 the law once, and as the third time's the charm, my dar- 
 ling, you're in for it for kidnai)i)ing, you blaggard. 
 
 END OK ACT THIRD. 
 
 Scene. — Same as Act 1. — 3frs. Vinton discovered angrily 
 pacing tliejioor at rising of the curtain. — Rings bell oit. 
 the table. 
 
 [Enter I)iN<iLE Black m. d. 
 
 Ding. Did you ring de bell, missus ? 
 
 3frs. V. Yes, 1 rung the l)ell, missus. Who gave you 
 this note for me? 
 
 Ding. One ol) de coloi-ed porters of de National 
 Hotel.' 
 
 Mrs. V. What was the nigger's name. 
 
 Di7ig. Don't know his name. His number is 'leven. 
 
 Mrs. V. Go and tell that nigger that I want to see 
 him. Take the carriage and bring him with you, and see 
 
36 A sTi'Nj;iN<; blow. ^ 
 
 that joii tell no one your errand. 
 
 Ding. \^Aside.'] Dat am de erossest olc woman I evei- 
 seed. Yon hear me. \_Exit m. \).~\ 
 
 [^Enter C'lakhissk d. l. 
 
 Clar. \_Ci'osHly.~\ Why are yon so angry? 
 
 Mrs. V. \_Flmgiug note to h(ir.~\ Read t'liat ! T\\v nn- 
 grateful wretch ! He has not the courage to speak to me. 
 hut he must Avrite to rue I 
 
 Clar. [Heads note <dond.~\ "My dear Fanny." 
 \_Spoken,.~\ He had honey to spare at any i-at.\ [_Reads.~\ 
 ''1 was called away ui)on business of nnich importance on 
 last eyening-, quite suddenly. I am sorry I cannot see 
 yon. I am so situated that I haye no control over my 
 actions or my time. Yours loyingly, Elias." [Si)ola'}i.'\ 
 I do not see anything in tliis to cause you to l)e so angry 
 w4th him. 
 
 Mrs. V. {Takes note and ti^ars it.) Idol You can 
 not see his perlidy. 
 
 Clar. 1 am glad 1 cannot. Your conduct is like that 
 of a silly young girl in loye. and who complains of inat- 
 tention when her lover fails for live minutes to speak of 
 love. You should sit all day and night in the light of his 
 smiles and within the hearing ol' his sighs. Why waste a 
 thought u[)on Elias Smith, a man of the world who obeys 
 every woman's tlatt.'ring nod to the satisfaction of a 
 detestihle conceit, and who imagines every woman he 
 chooses to bestow his ghastly smiles u[)on, is in h)ye with 
 him. You have l)een attracted into the web of this vile 
 spider, and have permitted him to gain ovei- you a baneful 
 intlu Mice which now recoils upon you by your belief that 
 he is endeavoring to cast you out. 
 
 Mrs. Y. (Sits 07) sofa.) Are you out of voui- senses? 
 
 Clar. No ; but to observe an old woman like you fool- 
 ing with the affections of s;ich a man, irritates me. 
 
 3Irs. V. I fooling with the aif'ections of Elias Smith? 
 
 Clar. Yes, — with the affections he outwardly seems to 
 possess ; and he is dawdling with your altVctions. IL' 
 does not care for you only for his anuisement. 
 
 Mrs. V. I belieye bett.u- of him. We ar^' engaged. 
 and expect to be married within — 
 
 Clar. {Interrupting.) Do not speak any further of 
 
A sti:n\in(; iilow. 87 
 
 that. It gives nio severe vertigo. Yoii are l)ut two 
 graves searching for a cradle. 
 
 3I)'s. V. I do not care what yon think of liini. Yon 
 wonld have him if yon conld get him. 
 
 CJar. I wonld not have him Avere he a (hstingnished 
 citizen from the moon. 1 detest him. 
 
 Mrs. v. Yon wonhl jnm[) at a chance hke him. Bnt 
 his continned absence Irom the parlors last evening seems 
 to have been ol)stinate and an intended insnlt ; and then 
 in excnse of it he sends me a note believing that it wonld 
 palliate the offense with me. I believe the note is a snb- 
 ti^rfnge. This, and the nnbecoming condnct of William 
 toward that hnssy yon took in fr-orn the streets to indnlge 
 your laziness and t<^ gratify a detestible vanity. i)nt me in 
 a rage. 
 
 Clar. I desired a waiting maid, and secnred .one. 
 
 Mrs. V. And I pay Vier her wages. 
 
 Clar. I acknowledge it. I am going to send her into 
 the streets again. She impedes my advance. 
 
 Mrs. V. Indeed she does ; she has dinnned the lustre 
 of yonr fascinations. The men were actually demcmted 
 last evening. , 
 
 CJar. Alen are fools, and the ladic^s are fast discover- 
 ing it. William managed to monopolize her; and which 
 caused })ecnliar conclusions regarding their intimacy. 
 
 Mrs. \. You should have improved yonr oi)portnnity 
 and displaced her from the high position she so effrontingly 
 assumed. 
 
 Clar. What could I have done? She received the ad- 
 miration of all the gentlemen from the first. The disgust- 
 ing, ungrateful minx, 1 could strangle her. 
 
 Mrs. V. You have only yourself to l)lame. 
 
 Jab. [Appearing at m. d.] Plaze allow me to intro- 
 duce your distinguished frind, Mr. George Canfield, 
 Esquire. 
 
 Clar. That booby again ! Tell hira that I am out. 
 
 Jab. He's too cunning a boy to stuff with that. He's 
 daft in love with yon. He's ^^true, true." 
 
 Clar. I will not l)e at home to him. Tell him that 
 Mrs. Vinton will see him — {going. ) that I am not at home. 
 [Exits D. L.] 
 
38 A STUNNp'(; BLOW. 
 
 Mrs. V. I will do nothing- of the kind. [Exits \>. k.] 
 
 Jab. (X«y/(//f8.)By this and by that the booby is not 
 wanted here. I'll amuse nivsilf anyway with him. I'll 
 throw him a ball of yarn. [Exits m. d. to l.] 
 
 [Enter William and Savillk m. d. from n. 
 
 Wm. Do not consider me wantino' in courtesy, Mr. 
 Williams, because I have demanded of you an exi)huia- 
 tion. 
 
 Sav. Your position as the master here autliorizes you 
 to ask or to demand of me an explanation ; l>ut. my deai' 
 young friend, your good name is in no danger of being- 
 injured by my reticence. 
 
 Wm. Then for my own satisfaction, and for that of 
 Miss Saville, my affianced, tell me the secret of FJias 
 Smith's attemj)ted abduction of her. 
 
 Sav. [Taking his hajid.^ William. I honor you. You 
 seem the soul of honor, but I dare not tell you that. But 
 I will trust you with one tiling wliicli must remain a secret. 
 As man to man 1 trust you with it. My name is John 
 Williams Saville, and Vera is my daught^^i-. 
 
 Wm. Thank Heaven ! \'era has told me of the 
 disj[)atch and we judged , its im[)ort. She 
 
 must know that h^r fath-?r lives ; and 1 must tell her. 
 [Goinf/.^ 
 
 Sav. Stop. William, \'era can wait a few days yet. 
 Leave it for me to apprise her of my exist nee. 
 
 Wm. She thinks you dead. We believed that you 
 were nuirdered, and had formed a plan of operation to 
 I'arn the truth. Your return is all we ask. for ii[)on that, 
 or upon the convincing proof of your death, depended 
 our marriage. Your consent to that is all we need to 
 make us very happy. 
 
 /Sav. You have it, William. You have an eloquent 
 advocate in Jabez. lie has succeeded in i)roving- your 
 worth as a man. 
 
 Wm. [Exte)idiny his hand.^ Thank you, Mr. Saville, 
 I shall try to win your approbation always. But how 
 should Ja})ez know of your true identity? 
 
 Sav. I have your implied promise, William. Remem- 
 ber it. [Going to m. d.] 
 
 Wm. It will be tlie hardest task of my life to keep the 
 
A STTNNINC^, BLOW. 39 
 
 knowledge of your return from Vera. 
 
 Sav. I shall try your integrity, sir. Tpon that hangs 
 the event of a wedding. \^Exits.^ 
 
 Wm. I never have l^een imposed upon with so heavy 
 yet so light a secret. (Sighs.) I wonder if I can keep 
 it. 1 must. Upon my integrity hangs the event of a 
 wedding — of our wedding. If I was a woman I know T 
 would kee}j the socrct. At least no one but my most 
 coufidcMitial friend should know of it. 
 
 \_E liter ^Iks. Vintox u. r. 
 
 Mrs. Well, are you recovering from your unlieeoming 
 infatuation ? or. are you still devotedly attached to your 
 sister's servant ? 
 
 Wm. Motlr.'r, why do you torment me by speaking so 
 spitefully of Miss Saville? You provoke me. 
 
 Mrs. V. Your conduct of late both in regard to her 
 and Jabez has been quite improper — unprecedented for 
 foolishness. I discharged Jabez. and you then engaged 
 him as your waiting man. 1 wished to get rid of liim 
 altogetliL'r Xoy go(jd reasons. It seems that a mother has 
 no rights her children should respect. 
 
 Will. I have thoughts moj-e pleasing than those en- 
 gendered by your peculiar conduct and language, to 
 engage my attention. 1 am sorry to have to say to my 
 mother, that, when she is in an nnamiable frame of mind, 
 I do not wish to be in her presence. {Exits m. d.) 
 
 Jlrs. V. rngratefuluess personified! What have I 
 ln-ought uj) the two unfeeling creatures for? The}' shall 
 obey me. {Exits u. 1. e.) 
 
 {Enter .] ABEZ laughing m. d. 
 
 Job. And do you hne her deai'ly, and do you v>'ant to 
 marry the dear creature, says I to him. "-True, true," 
 said he. {Laughs.) He's about as much of nothing as 
 I ever saw. He's a fit one for the young lady. 
 
 ' (Vera is thrust in at d. l. violently. 
 
 Clar. (Without.) Y'ou beggar outcast! Y^ou con- 
 temptible disgrace to woman ! You shall leave this house 
 at once, you impudent hussy ! 
 
 Jab. (At I). L.) Yon cowardly harrigan ! If I was 
 a woman for one mimite, I wouldn't lave a handful of hair 
 on youi' ugly shaped head. And did she lay her hand 
 
40 A STUNNJNG BLOW. 
 
 hard upon you before she pushed 30U out of her room as 
 she did? 
 
 Vera. Yes. But thank Heaven her time for doing 
 that is Ijrief. 
 
 Jab. You spake tlie truth now, darUng. Whisper. 
 Your father will turn the house upside down to-day. He 
 will tear off all the masks, and show the divil to be 
 painted pretty black. 
 
 Vera 1 ho})e the time wall be soon here when I may 
 openly recognize my father. Jabez, I — 1 wish to tell you 
 something. I wish some advice. 
 
 Jab. Spake to me all 3'our heart contains, and I will 
 hilp you all I can. 
 
 Vera 1 have promised to be the wife of William Vin- 
 ton. But what am I to do. His mother and sister are so 
 cruel to me? They would make our lives very miserable. 
 
 Jab. Treat them as if tliey were dead — forget them in 
 your ha])piness with Billy. Your father nor I can not 
 find a better husband than he'll make to you ; and if your 
 father don't say no to you, marry him twice if it will make 
 it surer you've got him, [^takes her hand.^ for he is every 
 inch a man. 
 [Mus. VixTON enters n. 1. e. stops, then advances grandl)j. 
 
 3Irs. V. JNIiss Saville. where is your mistress? 
 
 Jab. She's in her bordoir recovering from a tiit. It 
 was a bad attack, and if it hadn't ]>een that she got over 
 it she would be enjoying it now. She looked like an arch 
 Virago in it ; and you wouldn't, belave it if I wasn't telling 
 it that you have a daughter just like yoursilf when that 
 bad habit comes on her. 
 
 Mrs. V. I w^ill have you thrust from the house b}- the 
 servants ! 
 
 Jab. I l)elave you are a woman of energy and of your 
 w^ord. Your daughter has just pushed the young lady 
 from her room witli violence. 
 
 3frs. V. I dare say my daughter has sufficient reason 
 for giving to her a practical reprimand. 
 
 Vera. Mrs. Mnton, 1 have endeavored to perlorm my 
 dut}^ ever since I came here, and if J have failed to do so 
 in any manner, I am sorry. I am not to l)e held account- 
 able for last night's adventure, nor is your son — 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 41 
 
 \_Enter Clarrisse d. d. 
 
 Clar. {Interrwptiug.) You are responsible, 3^011 de- 
 ceitful thing. The acts of a finished coquette were suc- 
 cessfully i>racticed by you last night, to the disgust of all 
 sensible persons present, and to the perpetual dishonor to 
 the name of Vinton. 
 
 Vera. I did not allude to the compau}' so artistically 
 entertained by 3'ou on last evening. I referred to the 
 attempted — 
 
 Jah. (Interrnj^fhuj — at^ide to her.) Don't speak of 
 that. 
 
 Clar. Ex[)lain your allusion. Obey me. 
 
 Vera (Aside to Jabez.) They should know of it. 
 (Aloiid.) I allude to the attempted abduction of myself 
 between ten and eleven o'clock last night fi'om Terrace 
 Arbor, ]>y — 
 
 Jab. {Interrupting.) By two of the meanest villians 
 you ever associated with. That you didn't find a mention 
 of it in the morning papers, was because we desired to 
 protect the proud Vinton riame from scandal and cinsure. 
 
 Clar. We are under many olViigations to you. 
 
 Jah. Oh, don't mention it. It was a kindness you 
 should never forget. 
 
 Mrs. V. I do not Jielieve that sucli an act could have 
 been attempted on this avenue. 
 
 Vera We have se\'ei'al responsible witnesses to prove 
 it. 
 
 Jidj. It was a V(MT respictable and quiet little di-amatic 
 evint. 
 
 Clar. T believe it to be but a fabrication of the brain 
 of this girl who I now dischai-ge from any further service 
 to me. 80 pack you]-self and your things out of this 
 house as soon as possible. 
 
 Jab. If she goes, then 1 go. 
 
 Clar. Follow her then. You will make a fit couple of 
 beggars. 
 
 ,1(76. Billy will follow us, and then we'll be turning the 
 tal)les upon vou. 
 
 Mrs. V. My son has too much pride and self-respect 
 to follow such a jade. lie may be pleased to amuse him- 
 self with liei', but for anything serious — bah ! 
 
42 A stunni:j^g blow. 
 
 Clar. jMake your stay here as brief as possible. We 
 wish to renovate the lioiise. 
 
 Jc/6. It will be eleaiied out in a diftereut maimer than 
 you think, your ladyship. Come, Vera, let us o]>lige thini 
 good hunioredly, for you konw that the splindor of en- 
 raged justic-e will soon startle them. \_They go to m. d.] 
 
 Clar. CtO ! And may the outeasts from whom you 
 came, make room for you among them again ! I will not 
 be rivaled by a beggar who came to me in rags ! I expel 
 the serpent warmed into life l)y my fostering, and wish it 
 destruction. Go ! \_Exit Vera and Jabez to l.] 
 
 Mi'H. V. Well ; — she is now adrift, thanks to you. I 
 pity her. 
 
 Clar. I pity her so nnich that I could see lieracor[)se, 
 and not shed a tear. vShe has experienced my indignation. 
 I struck her I \_Exit to \..'] 
 
 Mrs. V. You are too haughty. Clarrisse, — too malig- 
 nant. Poor girl ! I do pity her — a little. \_Exlt d. ij.] 
 
 [^E liter William l. 1. k. 
 
 Wm. I dare not seek yeva because I will be tempted 
 too much to tell her im' secret. And yet she has a 
 secret which makes her hai)i)y. Miiy it not be the same 
 as mine? Psiiaw ! If she had seen her father she 
 would have told me before this. Oh, dear I but I am 
 miseral)le having to carry this heavy secret which is 
 freighted with happiness. 1 wish I did not know it. I 
 want to see her, but 1 am afraid of m3'self. 
 
 l^Enter fJxBKz hastily m. d. 
 
 Jab. (Takes ^Y ILIA AM to front. ^ Billy, I'm discharged 
 by your sister, but I wont go till you tell me to. 
 
 Wm. What do you mean Jal)ez ? 
 
 Jab. She's discharged likewise, Billy, and she is going 
 away. 
 
 Wm. Not A^era? 
 
 J«^. Yis. 
 
 Wm. Jabez, tell me all. Has my sister ])eeii unkind 
 enough as to send Vera out into the world ? 
 
 Jab. vShe has. 
 
 Wm. AVhere is Vera now? 
 
 flab. In the west hall waiting to see you. [^Exit 
 William hastily.^ Billy's flashing eyes tell tlie story that 
 
A STUNNING BLOW. 43 
 
 he'll blow up that powder maa^aziiie of a sister of his. 
 
 Here they are. 
 
 [Enter William a7id Vera m. d. his arm aroynd her^ and 
 
 comes dowri'C. — Jahez goes i(p l. hidhtg his face ivith 
 
 sjjreadjivgers, and exits m. d. to l.] 
 
 Wm. But where, darling, will you go. You must not 
 meet the world's coldness again. 
 
 Vera i have experienced the world's bitterest rebuke, 
 and I go this time knowing wliat I must receive. 
 
 Wm. I will he with you, darling. We will go together. 
 We will firmly meet life trusting in one another's love. 
 
 [Enter Mrs. Vinton d. r. 
 
 3Irs. V. Relieve that outcast hussy ! I am ashamed 
 of you my son. If this were known to the outside world 
 there would be no end to the scandal it would create. 
 
 Wm. Scandal cannot result from what you have just 
 witnessed, for the world will soon know tlie relation we 
 are to one another. 
 
 3Irs. V. You are not — mlu-ried? 
 
 Vera No, Mrs. N'inton. 
 
 Mrs. V. Then you must be his — 
 
 Wni. [Interrupting and strong.^ Do not utter another 
 word implying dishonor. 
 
 Vera Mrs. ^'inton, 1 never thought to have to give 
 you the credit of expressing that im})utation to me. You 
 have said much against me which I did not resent, but I 
 now return this last with double the I'orce with which you 
 gave it ! 
 
 Win. She does right in Hinging into your teeth the 
 slander. Sh<' will be mv wife. Now what have von to 
 say ? 
 
 Mrs. V. Your v.ife I 
 
 Wni. Yes, my wife. 
 
 Mrs'. V. Have I reared you to have you bring dis- 
 grac<* ui)on me. ujjon'us all, by choosing a wife of doubt- 
 ful family, whose record is that of a shameless outcast? 
 It is an insult and I will not submit to it. I would rather 
 see you dead than married to one so far beneath you. 
 
 Win. I have made my choice fi'om love. I know 
 enougli of her history to [)rove to me that she is worthy 
 of the love of a better man than I. 
 
44 A STUNM?v<; i>i^<>w. 
 
 Mrs. V. 1 kuow nothing of her oiilv what I have 
 observed. Like all m\ sterious persons she nuist have a 
 history which is l>elieved by those Itlinded by lo\'e. 
 Wtn. Mother, why are you so unkind to hw't 
 
 Mrs. V. Do not call me mother. The time for you to 
 thus address me has closed. You art- my son no nioi-e. 
 
 Tl'm. You cast me otf because — 
 
 3Irs. V. \_InterniiJtimj.'] Because you ase not my 
 son, I took you from a pauper's home when you were 
 two years old. 
 
 Vera. No, no, no. not that I not that I 
 
 Wm. \^xinKried.~\ A Pauper's Home 1 
 
 Mrs. V. Your father was a drunkard and a thief; and 
 your mother a — 
 
 Vera. \_Tnterruptin(i.'] No, no, no. no I Oh. have 
 mercy ! 
 
 Wvii. I do not believe it: and disbelievui^ it, I would 
 rather l»e what •! really am, than your son. for you have 
 broken my heart, an<l have robbed me of tiie only woman 
 1 ever loved — robbed me of \'era ! \_Sobs (dond.~\ 
 
 \era. No, William. 1 am yours dou])ly now. 
 
 Win. [liecovering.^ Thanks, Vera, for that assur- 
 ance. Come, let us leave this })lace. Let us leave her 
 once a mother to me, l>ut who now casts me out of lier 
 heart as one too loathesome for her lonji^er association. 
 Let us leave her to remember alone what she and J have 
 been to each other. Farewell. Mrs. Vinton. Farewell — 
 mother I [Exit Vvaik futd William m. d.] 
 
 Ifrs. y. What have 1 done ! What iiave 1 done I 
 William I William ! My son I Come back I Come 
 back ! l^Falls info chair at table. Enter Clahkisse d. l. 
 
 Clar. What has caused your excess of feeling? 
 
 3Irs. V. [^Becovers.^ Like you with Vera, I have 
 turned William from my doors. 
 
 Clar. It is just like vou to permit your temper to 
 master your reason. Did you have an entertaining- scene? 
 
 Mrs. V. I was indisereet ! I was mad ! I told him 
 th a t — ( h es ita tes . ) 
 
 Clar. Well !— told him what? 
 
 Mrs. V. That he was not my son. That I took him 
 from a Pauper's Home when he was two years old, and 
 
A STUNNING I'.LOW. 45 
 
 thfit his fjitlier was a dniiikard and a thief. 
 
 Qlar. Ycni nnfcohiio- woman ! You ha\'e (h-iven liini 
 away with that hussy \^era SaviUe — with a thief! 
 
 Mrs. y. What do yon mean? 
 
 Clar. Sh(? has taken witli lier my pearl necklace. I 
 dare not arrest her on account of entanglin*)- William in 
 the charoe. I would like to bring down the minx to her 
 proper level. 
 
 Mrs. V. She may not have gone. Send for her, and if 
 her conscience is not moss grown, she may restore it. 
 
 Clar. ' {Rings hell on table.) I'll make her restore it! 
 \_Enter DiN(iLE Black k. 1. ?:. 
 
 Ding. Did you ring, missus? 
 
 Clar. Tell Miss Saville if she is in the house, that I 
 want to see her here immediately. {Exit Dingle m. d. 
 passing Jaukz ivJa) enters.) 
 
 Jab. Your ladyship, before we take our departure 
 from your illigant }n*esence. I am requested to deliver you 
 this. {Produces necklace.) 
 
 Clar, Miss Saville I i)resume sent it to me because she 
 was afraid 1 would miss it, th(^ thief. 
 
 Jab. Don't call her out of her name. She niver had 
 the necklace. She does not know that it was gone. — that 
 it was stolen from your room. 
 
 Clar. Then you return it as the guilty one. 
 
 Jab. 1 know who did steal it. It was taken from a 
 thief and vagabond named James Darragh by me last 
 night wluMi we arrested him and Elias Smith for trying to 
 abduct Vera Saville. 
 
 Mrs. V. I don't believe it. P^lias Smith is not guilty 
 of such meainiess. 
 
 Jab. Isn't he? lie is now in charge of an officer and 
 waiting for the sintence. 
 
 Mrs. V. I will not believe it. 
 
 Jab. You're a true woman to stand by him. 
 
 Clar. This explains why he wrote you tliat letter. 
 
 Mrs. V. {Going.) I'll see for myself. 
 
 \_Enter Dingle B. m. d. 
 
 Ding. Can't find her no whar, missus. {Exit \i. 1. e. 
 
 {Enter Saville m. d. 
 
 Sav. You will please pardon me for appearing so un- 
 
46 A STUNNIJTG BLOW. 
 
 ceremoiiionsly. I came in uiiaiiiiounecHl because I am in 
 my own house. 
 
 Mrs. V. Sir ! 
 
 Sav. In explanation of my words 1 have a connnuni- 
 cation to make. 
 
 Jab. Make it aisy because they're shook up. 
 
 Clar. I can not find words to express my astonish- 
 ment, Mr. Wilhams. 
 
 Sav. My name is John Wilhams SaviUe, and Vera 
 SaviUe is my daughter. 
 
 Mrs. V. and Clar. Saville I — your daughter!- 
 
 Jab. The name is so pretty that you have to repate it 
 in astonisliment. 
 
 jSav. Pk^ase ring fc^r her, Miss Vinton. 
 
 Clar. \^Confi(sed.^ She is — she is engaged at pres- 
 ent. You will have to excuse her. 
 
 Jab. You've sint her away. Billy has gone with her. 
 by your ladyship's motherly discharge of him. 
 
 Mrs. V. I know nothing of either of them. 
 
 /Sav. Dece})tion will not do with me. 1 have a per- 
 emptory duty of a serious nature to perform, ett'ecting bit- 
 terly both of you. 
 
 3Irs. V. How, sir, can anything you may do concern 
 my family? 
 
 Sav. Jabez, try the magic of your touch upon the 
 bell. [Jabez rings bell upon table. ~\ 
 
 Jab. There's a great deal of attraction in my fingers. 
 \_Enter P^lias SMrrii sloidy m. d. 
 
 Sav. About sixteen months ago 1 was knocked down 
 in the private office of the l)ank of Smith & Vinton, and 
 robbed of half a million dollars. Kememl)er your i)i-om- 
 ise, P^lias Smith. 
 
 Ellas S. 1 gave him a blow upon the head with a 
 chair, and we laid him at night on the alley pavement 
 thinking that he was dead. Mr. Vinton and 1 divided the 
 monc}' equally, Vinton taking home with him a package of 
 papers tied with a red cord. 
 
 Sav. Those papers are yalual)le only to me, and in 
 any one's posession liut my own, would be evidence of 
 crime. 
 
 Jab. I got the package in the chest in the west room. 
 
A STUNNING RLOW. 47 
 
 your ladysliq). 
 
 Mrs. V. This is liorril)le I horribk' 1 You miserable 
 wretch, you ought to hang ! 
 
 Clar. I knew he was a villian. 
 
 Sav. Restitution has l)een made. Mr. Smith has re- 
 stored to me all, even this property, which has iK^en 
 enjoyed by I). H. Vinton's family under the impression 
 that the title was in ]Mr. \'inton. 1 have the deed for it. 
 Mrs. Vinton you have your l)ank account unharmed. You 
 nmst vacate Vinton Place at once. 
 
 Jiib. We wish to renovate the house. 
 
 Mrs. V. I will c(^ntest your title, sir. 1 will not be 
 imposed upon. 
 
 Elias S. P^anny — 
 
 3Irs. V. Don't Fanny me, you detestible wretch. I 
 will not be I'obbed. I will assert my I'ights. 1 dare him 
 to liis proofs that my husband attempted his life. 
 
 Clar. What proof have you, sir, of my father's com- 
 plicity in such a heinious crime, l)ut the evidence of the 
 atrocious villian, Elias Smith? 
 
 Jab. {P rodnri }ig p((pe rs .) riei'e is the straw that will 
 break your back. Here is the confession to the crime 
 written l)v Daniel H. ^'inton. March Sth. 
 
 Mrs. V. That is the date of liis death. 
 
 Jab. You're correct, your ladyship. 
 
 Clor. Where did you find that pai)er. 
 
 Jah. I discovered it in the toe of the right slipper of 
 the pair he wore last. I presume he slipped it into it to 
 kape it near his sole. An honest confession is good for 
 the soul. 
 
 Sav. .Ia))ez. t-'ll my daughter that I wish to see her 
 here . 
 
 Jab. I'll ring the bell. She is used to it. {Three 
 taps of the bell.) That's the same summons her mistress 
 called her by. • 
 
 \_Eiiter Vera and William m. d. 
 
 Sar. My daughter, you have served here as servant, 
 serve hereafter as mistress. You, William Vinton, I ac- 
 cept as \\\\ son, at your own request. 
 
 [S:mith exits m. d. unobserved. 
 
 Jab. Billy. I wish you would dischai'ge me. I got into 
 
48 A STUNNING^ r.LOW. 
 
 3'onr employ only to help Mr. Saville in his little ati'air : 
 and besides, Billy. I have a mine I must look after. You 
 wouldn't belave that I'm a rich man, would, you. Well, 1 
 am. Mr. Saville and I are old friends. ! eame with him 
 to this city, and whin he didn't eome baek for siveraldays, 
 I got- track of him at Omaha, and followed him hack to 
 our old eam[) where we both have bonanzas. I hnd him 
 doctored, ;ind took care of his business, and when he oot 
 well we came on here, and the first thing I did was to 
 blarney you u\). whin you im})loyed me. Tiiat was all I 
 wanted except the papers I got afterwards. 
 
 Wm. You were a mystery to me. but I now under- 
 stand why you were impudent at times, [^aside to N'kua.] 
 What I have heard is of so hori'ible a nature that I do not 
 know how to act toward my mothei" and sistei'. They 
 seem so crest fallen by the terrible revelation, that I pity 
 them. All my filial love rushes upon me with such force 
 that I am impelled toward them. I nnist speak to them. 
 [Veka cutd William ((pjn-odch them:] 
 
 Mm. V. My son still ! Foi-i>i\'e me I Forgivi' me I 
 \_He clasps hei' in his arins.~\ 
 
 Clar. \_To\vA\\.] Can you forgive me? I have been 
 so cruel. P^orgive me I [\^kha kisses them — a pistol shot 
 heard ivithout — all startled — Jahez and Wwaaa^i hastily ex- 
 it — all go tip to M. i>. — enter William and Jauez snpport- 
 ing Elias Smith whose right temple is bloody, and place 
 him on sofa, hastily p)l<(ced c. by Saville — enter (iEOH(iE 
 Canfieli). 
 
 Elias 8. [With great e fort.] I could not live and 
 l)e known the wretch I am. The woi'st is not half told. 
 Tell Darragh — [pain.] 
 
 Jab. He is past being tould. He was shot dead by a 
 policeman while attempting to escape. 
 
 Elias S. Then my letter in his posession will — [pain.] 
 
 jScw. I have all the i)apers found upon his person. 
 
 Elias S. Burn them — even the chi'ck. ( With strong 
 effort.) Mr. Saville. it is my dying wish that you receive 
 the reasonable value of this i)ropertv, out of my estate. 
 All else I am possessed of it will and bequeath to William 
 Vinton, whose true name is William Curtis, whose parents 
 I robbed and ruined. {Severe pain.) Fanny, {to Mrs. 
 
A STI NXINO I5LOW. 40 
 
 VixTON.) forgive me. I — I — 1 die confessing- tliat I 
 poisoned your husband. Pardon — pardon — (Cr>-oans, and 
 falls back dead. — Mrs. \'inton sinks to the Jioor r. of 
 Smith. — Clarrisse, witli her hands over her ears^ and ivith 
 horrified, countenance runs to m. d — Vp:ra clings to Wil- 
 liam and Saville r. — Jabez kneels beside Mrs. Vinton.) 
 
 Jab. Mrs. Mnton is dead. (William rvns to Mrs. 
 Vinton, when Clarrisse ivaves him mviiy.) 
 
 Cl^r. {Strong.) She is not dead! She has only 
 swooned beeanse this wretch (Pom^.sfo Smith.) has proved 
 false to her in his love, and confessed himself a murderer 
 of my father — her hus])an(l ! (Laughs.) Shells not 
 dead! This is ])nt pretense, from which I shall Imng her. 
 (Seizes Mrs. Vinton a)id is about to shake her roughly, 
 when J xiiKZ and W II A A XM interfere.) Away! If she is 
 dead, murder has l)een done! (Dazed.) Murder — mur- 
 der — dead — dead I ( Comes down to Vera and Saville. ) 
 Who are you? 1 know — I know. (Backs slowly from 
 them., turns and sees S^htii and Mr.^. Vinton.) Who are 
 they — dead! — murder! (Falls l. of S:\iiTn — Canfield 
 goes to her — William and Vera go to Mrs. 
 Vinton — Jabez and Saville get to n. in. front.) 
 
 Suv. This is an unexpected ending. 
 
 Ja6. A stunning l)low given to you. lias taken its own 
 revenge, (slow curtain — music.) 
 
 the end. 
 
W^arning Notice. 
 
 Any person oi* |)er8<)ns prodiu-inii- this play without 
 
 my written consent, will be prosecuted l)y nie to the full 
 
 extent of the Inw. 
 
 The Author. 
 
L^fR^RY OF CONGRESS 
 
 ■n. 
 
 016 103 674 2 ♦