Aland's Music Store Headquarters for PUBLISHED BY THE PROPRIETOR, T H 0 M A S II A I L E 8 L A C T, THEATRICAL BOOKSELLER, 8 9, STRAND, Opposite Southampton Street , Covent Garden Market^ LONDON. (LATB DDECOMBB’S.) THE NEW BRITISH THEATRE. No. J/jl luteal Instruments, f Sheet Play Books d-ndl kinds 6f Musical Trimmings. ►37 Ring Street West, TORONTO. CENTRAL CIRCULATION BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was borrowed on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation/ and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. TO RENEW CALL TELEPHONE CENTER, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URB ANA-CHAMPAIGN NOV 0 8 1993 OCT 1 9 1993 When renewing by phone, write new due date below previous due date. L162 THE INNKEEPER’S DAUGHTER; OE, MARY, THE MAID OF THE INN. A MELO DRAMA, IN ®li)0 JUtS. j$!C g.-.-; 37 K/7JG*STi \'J. BY 0 / fOA/ro, OVH« GEORGE SOANE, A.B. Fior of Luke Somerton , Lilian the Show Girl , Chelsea Pensioners , Jac&’s -4Zwe, c&c. <#c. THOMAS HAILES LACY, WELLINGTON STREET, STRAND, LONDON. Mr. Minton Mr. Kent Mr. Gattie Mr. G. Srn Mr. Johns dramatis personal, 7 L 0R ItJINAL CAST I Langley, a Magistrate 1 Frri'nn' f Cov T ntn t Gentleman rrnnkland , an Innkeeper PMi:p V 'hi s °Son n ° fa Gms °f Smu gg^rs . „ M ^chcird, a 'i/nunc FiqJipvvn,,™ • 7 . • Mr. John* Tr‘ cks p’ « 'Cwfow ifrmee ^ mth Mary Mr . Walla CS ' “ G T m “" * & Ctato*' House ; m" ? U fJ‘ e White . ! n n * ( Mr. Coven -SW& . V cjZT trV < • Mr. Willis • .1 G ‘"* W ) .Mr.Vn," William , a Smuggler, Mate ofTTn™* » rr ; Mr. Ed war Eduiard Harrop^ Harrop ’, boots. ^ Gll * r “«y shirt, pe G ‘°^ er '-ni r hat , : ett,>o: * t iro ‘’'KanfKe^K-DSrV'" 1 ^ With red - •* «->cl bad ' s "P *» 'he knees, S" ra p "''“ lrimmed . I'unks ,ery full. Pantaloons, rimeteTotf *e h a ” d A,S »P— Various coloured tunic- Edw' !, u-''"' u ?‘ !ier ‘ s «ress. hire dockings, -* a ' ,iet ’ st, iped shirt, petticoat trowsern, black si TfiE INNKEEPER’S DAUGHTER. ACT I. SCE N E I —The Sea-coa.it. On r. h. are several Smugglers' huts. Before one of them is the decayed trunk of aver,, targe oak. Not far from land is a projecting rock, ex- tending several yards into the sea. before which is a Smugglers vessel in flames During the opening dia- logue he Smugglers descend from the burning ship into a bout, and make towards the shore. At a considerable distance is tfe King s cutter. Maria y stands in front watching the burning vessel, and wringing tier hands in despair. By her side is Edward. splicing a rope, with a large case-knife in his hand. Edw She hums bravely. Good night to the Foy. Mar. Undone: undone! Wine.—gin,- brandy. -tea ~ troved U ! ndred P ° Unds at least! ~and all gone, - ail de- Edw. Never mind, mother: if w e J ose it. the revenue harks will not he the better for it. They’ll notget so much ■ a spoonful o, grn or a sup of brandy to pay them for all le hard knocks they have had ! Mar. Boy! boy! we are ruined ' That cargo was the eniure o. all we were worth, and more than all. Where nal, our hunger now find bread ? My children I my chil- ren . and 1 must hear your hungry cries for food, and nl answer them with tears. j p sha! mother, what's the use of crying 5 The Fox U m ' m - a , nd , ll ' ere ’ s end of it. [The boat reaches the i0 , e beyond the huts, so that the landing of the Smugglers not seen by the Audience. At. the same time a boat U 0 / from, the cutter .] Father comes— father comes' ry up your eyes, mother. Make haste : he looks plaguy 6 THE INNKEEPER’S cross, and you know his hand is apt to fall heavy on you and me in his eml moods. Mar Go in, boy — [ dread his temper. Edw That’s more than I do Bless your soul, I don't mind him a rope’s end. ’Tis but a good beating, and that’s soon over. Harrop. [ Without .] Hawl the skiff up close on the beach, and stow the sails in the house. Harrop, William, and Smugglers enter u. e. L; h. Ed- ward runs up to Harrop. Edw. Now, father what news ’ Har. [Striking himS, ’Sdeath, you hound! do you laugh at me? Don’t you see the smack burning ?— are you blind ? Edw. If I’m not, I’m sure it’s not your fault. [The ves- sel blows up with a loud explosion.] Har. Do you hear that ? Edw. Yes — I’m not deaf. Har. What’s that you mutter ? Mar. Go in, Edward — go in. Edw- I shan’t — let him do his worst. Har. Why, you young scoundrel, do you brave me ? Mar. Let me entreat you, Harrop— Edward, go in. Edw. I'm not afraid — beat me, if you will. Har. By heavens! — No— I was too hasty, and thou art a brave fellow, Ned : poor Philip had not a stouter heart. Mar. Poor Philip ! Has anything happened to him? Har. You 11 know soon enough; they’ll bring him here directly. Edw. What ! have they killed Philip ? Mar . Oh that my breath could raise the sea in storms to overwhelm them all ! Har. Be quiet, woman — the boy’s wounded to death, and your howling will do no good. Edw. [Going up to Harrop, and straining his knife ve- hemently m his hand.] Father — Tricksey, the guager, gave notice to the King’s ship of our boat being off the coast- -if Phil’ is to die, should he ’scape scot free ? Har. [Squeezing his hand ] Brave boy — brave boy ! I’ve lost nothing while you remain to me. [Other Smug- glers enter , bearing Philip, covered with blood, and speech- less ] ^ Mar . My son ! my son! I never truly loved you till this moment! Speak to me — call me mother. tdw. Four wounds ! and each one large enough to let out four lives. DAUGHTER. M U. [ Who has been looking out.] A boat is coming from the cutter with Tricksey and his German friend, Hans K- ta- ler /far. Who? the guager? In with you ! in all of you. Lead Philip to his bed — and some of you take that woman into your own hovel, that the poor lad may die in peace. Mar. I will not leave him. Who so lit as a mother to close his dying eyes ? Mar. Marian, have you heard me? I am used to be obeyed by men, and shall not entreat a woman. Mar. Ah ! I fear you no longer : since Philip is lost to me, what haye I to fear for ? Mar. Force her away! [ Some of the Smugglers force her off, 3 e. l h. while others bear in Philip.] The rest in with me— except you, Edward. Stay you here, to learn what the guager is about Edw- [Maliciously ] Yes, yes— Til look to him. [All enter the cottage, l h. except Edward--/ie conceals himself behind the oak. The boat reaches the shore — Tricksey and Hans Ketzler land, and the Sailors row back to the cut- ter. Ketzler is constantly at Tricksey’s right hand, between him and the tree. Music during the time of the landing .} Trick. Bravely fought, Hans — was it not ? Metz . Ja — very brave ! But who, in the Teufel’s name, told you so ? You were in die hold all der time, snug as one littel fairy in der cowsljp-bell. Trick. Prudence, Hans, prudence — nothing but prudence. There were enough to light without me. It was plaguy ill- nature in Harrop, though, to set lire to the ship and burn the cargo. 1 shall make bold to tell him so much when I see him. [ Ketz. Dat sail be a long time. Know you they are all blown up. Trick. I don’t believe it. I am sure they took care of themselves before they set fire to the ship ; though 1 didn’t choose to say so on board the cutter, for fear the captain should land his men and seek for them, for then they would all have swung for the men that are killed, Ketz. Ja-and one very good thing loo. Trick . Very ba^, you mean — it would have knocked up my business. ^ Ketz. In mein mind, then, it were besser you not see Harrop at all. Trick Why so, my hero of Saxony THE INNKEEPERS ft Ketz. Humph ! Trie ', Humph! What do you mean by humph ? Speak out plainly. Ketz. Why it has just come into mein head that Harrop may not be altogether pleased with your part in diess busi- ness. Trick. Pleased ! Who the devil ever thought he would ! or who cares about his pleasure? Ketz . Mein Gott ! what der great hero you are with your tongue If dein hertz — your heart — were but half so va- liant, you would be more braver what Ceesar was Trick. J shall begin to think you are afraid of this fellow Harrop. Ketz. Was! was you say? Ich afraid ! Sapperment ! Trick. Be cool — be cool, can't you ? I didn’t mean to offend you: but your German blood is so prodigiously hot, Ketz. And your lawyer blood is so verdammter cold ! die fear has frozen it into one gross piece of ice. No man bes- ser understand die mystery of die retreat what you do. Trick. If I fear liesh and blood, you fear the devil and the spirit. You have a certain dread — respect I would say — for goblins, witches, and all those wonderful personages so faithfully recorded in the tales of old women. Now, for my part, I don’t care a jot forany one of them. I would as soon meet the dead granny Shipton as any of her living successors. But you are getting into a passion. Ketz. Got damn, nein — Ich am so cool as one day in Ja- nuary. Are we to stay here all der night? Oder are we to go home ? Der little while ago you were in one big hurry to land, because you had business. Trick. There is a little mystery in that, which I must let you into. The smugglers purposely set fire to their vessel —of that lam certain. Ketz Ich do believe it But, supposing it so Trick. Why, supposing it so, it is a hundred to one that they Hung over the most valuable part of their cargo, for the tide to drift it. ashore. Ketz. Verdammt’ Why did you not say so much to der herr captain of der cutter ? Trick. And let him share the prize? No, I thank you. Edw. Rascal ! Trick. Did not somebody speak? Ketz; Ja — and somebody who does seem to know you remarkably well. Was giebis ? who there ? [Hans Kelzler daughter. 9 moves forward .] Du Hundsfott ! Come out — come into der light of der moon — Jet us look upon your ugly face. [ Drays him forward ] Edw. (it.) Let go of my collar. [ Threatening with his knife.] Trick. Here’s an imp of the old one ! hetz Ju — one true Teufel’s child. So, Burche, you do amuse yourself with calling the people rascal. Edw. Whom did 1 call rascal ? Ketz. Sapperment ! was an impudc nt young knave it is ! Trick. Come along, Hans. [ Crosses to R. n.J Ketz. Ich muss take this jung knave with us: Edw. I tell you again, you had better leave me alone. Trick. Hans, for Heaven’s sake, be quiet ; it’s Harrop’s boy — hear me [He whispers Hans, who shakes his head , doubtingly „] Ketz. You must have your own way, 1 suppose. And you, Teufel’s kind ! think yourself lucky dass Ich let you oif so easily, and don’ttempt the teufel again. Edw. I didn’t as < for your advice; Trick. Come along. Ketz. But der gin. der wine, der brant wein — all what you say was flung overboard, and would be drift ashore 1 Trick Hot the gin and brandy ! my life is dearer to me than all the gin and brandy in Christendom Come! [Trick - sey goes out r. h. — Hans Ketzler follows slowly, grumbling* E are y ° U talk of snch poof father starved oh my ' nn ? ’T ld you have y»« i/ ri , . Oh, you unnatural jade I himlhfebyh. ^ & sailor and a fisherman-let Prank. By bobbing for eels, I suppose? No no girl S li ,IP " feS nothing— I have made up my min 1 trank Made up your mind, have you 1 Dick that’s a' K::r ftvw ' rw,be ^ ^5." DAUGHTER. } $ Mary . You will find yourself mistaken, father. Hear me, Richard — if after to-night you have any dealings with those men, you shall never call me wife. Rich. But Mary Mary. I’m resolved ! Frank. And so am I — till he can shew me two hundred pounds in his own hands, he shall never marry Mary Rich. No more wrangling— we’ll talk of this to-morrow — you are both growing warm. Good night, Mary. [ She turns away, ] Not one kiss ? Vary Not till you have deserved it. Rich. 1 will ere long. Mary. It must be by obedience then, for lam determined you shall obey me before marriage. Frank. And after too, [ fancy [Richard endeavours to kiss her.] Mary No — not one [He snatches a kiss.] Rich. Good night ! [He goes out l. h. Monk It's all nonsense, fancied by a set of doting gran- dames, who, when they are too blind to see a millstone, and too deaf to hear any clack but their ow n, think they hear and see more than any body else can. Lang. And f say, upon the word of a magistrate, it’s all true - 1 saw one with my own eyes. Monk. Nonsense— nonsense 1 even little Mary laughs at your ghosts and goblins. Lang. Mary, indeed • with all her laughing, J would lay rou a guinea to a crown she’s afraid to go to the Abbey Jlose to-night, and fetch a slip from the yew-tree. Monk , Done ! Lang. Done ! a guinea to a crown. Went. You’ll lose your wager, Monkton. Monk , I don’t fear it. Frank i U hat is the matter, gentlemen ? .1. onk; The matter is this — Langley has laid a guinea to crown that Mary is afraid to go to the Abbey Close to- lght. and fetch aslip from the yew tree. You know the tree. Frank. Oh, yes — it grows in the middle of the Abbey lose. Every body knows the old yew-tree. Lang. But your little heroine seems quite silent. Monk. V\ hat say you, Mary ? will you win me this wager? Mary. If going to the Abbey Close and cutting a slip om the yew-tree will do it, most certainly, Monk, You hear, Langley. i4 THE INNKEEPER’S Lang But let her do it — talking and acting are widely different, Frank, Lord bless you sir ! Mary has no faith in ghosts [Aside.] An old fool Lang. Let her set about it, then. Mary With all my heart. Monk. Stop, my girl - it's fair that your courage should have its reward. This purse of five guineas waits your suc- cessful return. Here’s my hand to the promise, and Harry Monkton never yet gave his hand to a falsehood. You'll want a knife to cut the slip — take mine. [He pulls out a large pocket- tinife, and, gives it to Mary.] And now set off, and be speedy in the business. We will wait your return in the kitchen. Mary. Don’t fear me, sir — you’ll win your wager, but lose your purse. Monk , Away with you ! [Exit Mary, l. h.] Come, my little magistrate ! [Exeunt r h. SCENE IV. — The Abbey Close. The moon shines brightly at first , but at intervals is completely overcast by large black masses of cloud that roll rapidly along. On the left hand is the church. At the back is a small river , skirting the church-yard, and dividing it from a thick wood. A large yew tree. Enter Richard, l. h. Rich. Now had I any reasonable degree of faith in the creed of our grandames, I should take this as an omen of evil, and turn back. Ha, ha ha ! A glorious storm is brew- ing~the very thing for us to land the Fox’s cargo, if she should come in to-night. Those clouds will soon throw a wet veil over the moon’s face, an 1 then all will be snug. [Music. The report of a pistol heard, R. H ] A pistol shot —and here! Strange! [As he is going out he is met by Harrop.] Har. Skulking ? Eh ? Avast, messmate— there are break- ers ahead, Rich. Harrop ? ... Har. What, is it you, Richard ? You spoke just in time, my lad, for I thought you were a shark on the look out. Rich. What have you been about ? Har , Sewing up the guager’s mouth. Rich You have not murdered him S DAUGHTER, \o Har. Indeed but I have— anc done nobody any wrong either, unless it be the hangman, by robbing him of his fee: but you, mayhap, intend to turn informer Rich, Betray you? No — never! This infernal deed merits the rope, but 1 am not a hangman. What power of madness, what demon, could tempt you to this horrible act, which, in the telling only, makes the blood stand coldly at my heart? Har , No matter for that. The rascal gave notice of the Fox being off the Headland, and Elliott’s cutter bore down upon us like a gun-shot. We shewed them some play for it — kept up a running fight for two glasses — but all would not do ; so we set fire to the Fox that they might not get anything. Rich All lost, then 1 Har. Aye, all — except a few casks of brandy that wehad time to heave overboard. As they are well hooped, and the sand runs smooth, there’s a pretty fair chance of their drift- ing ashore. Rich. Ruined ! Poor Mary ! you said it would he so. Har. We shall do no good by standing here and chatter- ing about i — lend a hand to heave the guagerinto the river. Rich . ’Twere a dreary task. Let it pass : nobody was present, so nobody can witness to the deed. Har. That’s true — but they may clap me into the bilboes upon suspicion. Rich. Well, if i must — if the danger is so urgent But, by the Power that made me, I never knew what terror was till now ! Har. Dreams of fancy ! Come— he fell not far off— by yonder clumps of trees — and Idare say we shall find some- thing in his pocket to pay us for our trouble in burying him. Rich. Monstrous 1 Have you no fear — no remorse ? Har. None. Rich. ( Agitated ] Harrop ! I’ll serve you till the danger is past, because it is danger; and then I am a stranger to you for ever. Har. As you please. [ Winds howls .] Rich. The wind howls dreadfully. Har. Yes, it. whistles through the old broken belfry as if it would blow it away. Rich. The night is like this action — dark and horrihle. Har Nonsense! nonsense! [Exeunt 2 e. r. h. Music C 16 THE INNKEEPER’S Marian enters l, h* crosses to R. h and exit. After a pause Mary is heard singing without , as if at a little distance The Spring’s first morning, O’er earth was dawning. And the leaf was on the tree ; — Enter Mary, l. h. The sun was beaming , The breeze was streaming, And green was the rippled sea. [ Lightning r. h. Mary seems alarmed ; but , as if struggling with her fear , continues to sing , though in an under tremulous tone , till at last her voice dies away* Church bell tolls.] Mary. Is this indeed reality— or are my senses leaving me ? Did not the funeral bell toll ? I think I heard it — yet no human hand could be near. It must have been my fancy. All is on the sudden so deadly still— not a leaf moves — and yet but a few minutes ago the wind blew vio- lently — [Bell tolls again.]— and now it comes again as fu- riously as ever. [ The wind howls ] A dreadful thought is coming over me ! a thought Of power to wither reason. Gracious heavens ! do not bereave me of my senses — afflict me not with madness ! Hark ! 1 hear the tinkling of the sheep-bell, the barking of the watch-dog. How foolish my fear was! I did not know I was so great a coward — • but I’ll not go back without a slip from the yew-tree. No, no — they would laugh at me then, indeed ! [Music. She goes to the yew-tree— just as she has cut the bough, lightning flashes — a loud scream is heard , R. h. — She starts away from the tree in terror.] Horrors are bursting from the charnel-house to blast me ! [Mary drops the knife and the yew-branch , and falls on her knees m a paroxysm of ter- ror.] Oh, help ! help ! [ The wind again howls furiously .] I’ll hear and see no more ! Bar. [ Without.] 1 say somebody is there — I heard a voice Rich. [Without.] It’s nothing but your distempered ima- gination. Har. [Without.] Is it? well soon see that. [Mary starts up —staggers forward a few paces - the moon is sud- denly obscured — the thunder rolls , and the flashes of light- ning are vivid and. frequent. ] Mary . Terror freezes my limbs — I cannot move! [ She DAUGHTER 17 falls a own by the tide of a tombstone. Harrop and Richard enter — the former has a knife in his hand ] War. 1 doubt I have not killed her Rich. Are you man or devil ? Your hands are drenched in blood, and yet you are not satisfied. Har. If a little blood frightens you, heave off, white- livered fool! Rich. Better so than have the praise of such courage as yours. Strike at a poor defenceless woman — for shame 5 Har. Why make so many words about nothing ? It was not safe to let her go and tell people she had seen us with a dead body. Nay, I’ll not swear that she might not see me shoot the guager Rich . Better so than as it is. [Harrop wafts about, searching for Mary. Har. I wish the moon would peep out and shew us 'he other skulker — it’s so dark, I can hardly tell a tree from a tombstone [Music. Mary ri es and crosses round to u. e. l. h. and back. Her cloak catches in a. branch of the yew- tree, and she remains fixed.} Surely I see something by the old yew-tree. [ Music. Mary unties the cloak, and leaving it on the tree, creeps to the other side of the tombstone — Music. Harrop strikes with his knife at the cloak. J I have you now ! Rich. Another murder '. Har. [ Who has discovered his mistake .] Yes, and a very terrible one, truly ! An old cloak, which somebody has left here. Rich. I’ll stay no longer. If I am to help you in conceal- ing —Concealing! nothing can conceal this horror — moun- tains cannot cover it - seas cannot wash away its bloodiness Har I dare say — 1 dare say but I’ve dropped my knife. [ 7 ightning. His foot kicks against the knife which Mary dropped. ' Here it is— come along. [He picks it up, and they yo off ‘l E. R. h.] Hary. It’s all explained — terribly explained ! A double murder ! and done within the hallowed circle of the dead! U eadful — dreadful 1 But why do I linger? What is this inward impulse that keeps me here ? It is as if something whispered me that to slay but another minute is to be lost— and yet I cannot go Something more terrible remains, and 1 feel myself tied down to see the end of it. [ Thunder rolls more violently. Harrop and Richard appear 2 e. r. h. bearing Tricksey's body, wrapped in a sack , towards the 1 THE INNKEEPER’S water— the wind, howls furiously — Richard’s hit is blown Off-} Rich . Stop my hat is off. Bar . Let us get this off our hands — there will be time enough for your hat hereafter. Rich. On, then ! [Music. Harrop and Richard go out with the body l. h. Mary seizes the hat — Harrop turns round and perceives her.] Bar. I said there was a skulker. [She flies— he pursues her , I tick. What’s the matter now ? Har. After her ! after her ! [Rushes out in pursuit of Mary, r. h.] Rich. Surely his brain is turned ? 1 could well wish I had never known him. Lights coming this way ! I dare not stay — and why not ? I am not a murderer — and yet a weight of lead is at my heart — the frost of winter is thrilling in my veins' ( A short pause. ] There’s blood upon my hands. [Muic.\ Monk . [ W ithout R. h.] This way — this way Rich, i must not stay! [He rushes out 2 e. r. h.] Monk, [ Without , l. h.] Do make haste — some accident must have happened to the poor girl ! Monkton, Langley, White, and Wentworth, enter with lighted torches in their hands , L. h. Monk. [/Is he enters.) 1 begin to fear the worst as we have not met her — and she has been gone long enough to have won the wager three times over. Lang t is most probable that she has been frightened by something, and fainted. This dismal place, at such an hour of the night, and in such weather 1 I really think we had better go back. [During this dialogue all are em- ployed in searching for Mary.] Monk. That unlucky wager ! If any ill befall her — the blood runs cold in my veins ! Langley, you and I together have destroyed that girl. Lang. I! I deny your words. Didn’t I tell you how dangerous it was to walk in the Abbey Close at midnight ? — I wish we were out of it now— and didn’t you bribe her to this ridiculous feat, and praise her courage ? I, indeed ! Honk. Let us not quarrel — the thing is done. If you feel easy, so much the better for you. I shall never again lay my head in peace upon my pillow. I^ang. I only wish we were out of this horrible place. DAUGHTER. Ifl Monk . I d give my right hand to see her sitting again by ner father's tire-side. Lang . What’s that glittering at your feet ? is it not a knife ? Monk. [Pic ing up the knife that was dropped by Har- rop.] It is : and here, too, is a branch of yew : she must have been in the Abbey Close. Went. I Who is at the back of the stage.] The ground is wet with blood—and here again, till it ends by the river’s side. She has been murdered ! , Lang . Don’t let us stay here a minute, then — the ruffians may be still about the place. Monk, Are you not ashamed to own yourself so pitiful a coward ? that girl's blood is upon our heads, and every drop of it cries out shame upon your cowardice. Lang. If the girl’s murdered, that’s no reason why we should be so too. [Mary, without r. h. calls for help, and immediately afterwards rushes in.] Mary, Save me 1 save me ! Monk . My poor girl! Heaven be praised that you are safe. But what is it that has frightened you ? Mary. Am 1 safe? Monk. Do you not know us ? look up. Mary. I did but just escape. But where are we ? Monk. In the Abbey Close. Mary. For God’s sake, let us be gone — there’s danger here. Monk. Danger of what ? Mary. They are not far off. Pray let us go — I’m sure thev must be near. Monk. Who ? who are near, Mary ? Mary. 1 could not distinguish their faces ; there was too little light for that ; but I saw them drag a body over the graves, and ding it into the river. This hat belonged to one of the assassins — there is a name in it — [Mary screams.] Monk The name ? A torch— Went. Richard : [She screams with terror, and drops the hat. Monkton pick s i t up. ] Mary. [ Snatching the hat from him*] No, no, no ! What did I say ? I took it from him. It is not his — he did not drop it. Monk. Poor girl ! poor girl! she does not know what she is saying. Mary. He’s innocent ! yes, he’s innocent ! I know he is. THE INNKEEPER'S br my fright— I— ha, ha, ha !— he’s innocent. [She laughs hysterically , and drops exhausted into their arms. END OF ACT I. ACT II. SCENE I.— The interior of Richard's Colt ge ^ Brandy , gingham, cold meat, and a lighted lamp, on an oa . ta- ble, that stands in the centre of the room. Har [ Without. 1 Holla! At home, Richard! f fames a. moment, then enters, L. H. D ] So, so ! he is not yet come back. 1 see his old dame has left a noble supper ready for him. Suppose he should not return all night! 1 hat s bad. for I’ve led the blood hounds into this track, and to hud him here with the guager’s pocket-book would confirm the suspicions excited by that. A lucky chance that ; and as lucky, that, in following that young girl back to the Abbey Close, 1 should overhear all. Let me see-how shall 1 act ? [He takes out his watch.] ’Tis past eleven S “PP°®® 1 drop the pocket-book beneath the table, and trust the rest to chance. It would be better that l should be sure of Ri- chard’s coming back. Footsteps without! us he, I think. [Harrop puls up the pocket-book again. Richard enter , l. h. d.1 It is 1 All, then, is right. Rich. I’m glad to hear that, for your sake . Twas not so wher I left the Abbey Close. . Har Did you hear what was said ? Rich. How should I ? Har. Curiosity, I should have thought*— — . Rich. Curiosity ! I was never less inclined to curiosity in my life. . Har. Then you overheard nothing . Rich. No no— I tell you, no ! 1 tacked about as quietly as possible, and made my way home-though with as many turns and windings as a hunted hare. . . j . ? Bar. So 1 should suppose. W hat do you intend to do . Rich. [Seated on r. h. side of table.] To do . Har . Aye— what do you intend to do ? Rich. What should I do ? Har . This quibbling is from the purpose. If the matter c-omee to question, shall you betray me ? Daughter. Rich. Betray you ! not a jot of it — there s my hand to — [Struggling with his feelings ] No — by heavens ! I can’t take you by the hand — there’s blood upon it still! Har. I thought so. Rich. What did you think ? — though I have too much fear lor an assassin, 1 have too much courage for an informer. Har. You’re a kind fellow. Rich. Don’t mistake me Marrop — I owe you no kind ness — but for Marian’s sake, for the sake of your children, and a little, perhaps, for the sake of old fellowship, l would not see you on a gibbet. Har. [ Starting ] Didn’t you hear a groan ? Hark Rich. 1 hear it plainly enough. H r. Again 1 Rich. What can it mean ? H er. It means no good to us, you may be sure. Rich. Vo us ? To yourself, you should say. 1 would not be the partner of your action, though each drop of blood it has spilt were the purchase of a ton of gold. [Crosses to L. H.] Har. f Muttering.] We shall reckon for this ere long. Rich What do you say ? Har. Will you look out a-head, and see what this noise means ? Rich. Oh, with all my heart. [ Crosses to l. h. Music — Richard lights a candle, and goes out at door.] Har. This is strange but there’s not a moment to be lost in thinking about it. 1 11 fling the pocket-book beneath the table, and then — Music. Harrop crosses to l. h, with the intention of placing the book under the table.] Hold L — no, it will be better to put it into the pocket of his great coat. Music. He puts the pocket-book into the poc - et. of the great coat which Richard had hung against the wall , r. h Now, when they come they’ll be sure to search; and, finding this will Hx the business on Richard. I wonder that the bloodhounds have not been here yet — l gave them clue enough. However, I’ll be off while 1 can. As he is going out he is met bxj Richard, who enters with the light extin- guished , l Hj Rich I cou d see nothing — the wind has blown out my candle. Har. It was my fancy, perhaps. Good night I Rich. Stop a moment — 1 was going to say that Lang. [Without L. h. u. ] This way— this way — THE INNKEEPER’S Rich, They’re coming, Harrop! I know Langley** voice. This is no place for you. Har> Fasten the door, man - fasten the door. [ Richard runs to the door, and locks and bolts it. ) Music, j Now then, I’ll above, and make my way out of the window while you hold them in talk below Rich. But suppose- — Hur. But ! there’s no time to talk — do as I tell you. [Music. Harrop goes out r. h. d.] Rich. Is not my honesty to a scoundrel making me play the fool here? — they will suspect me— suspect — zounds! I’ll — no - no, to betray him were the act of a coward. Be- sides, I’m innocent — all's well here. [ Putting his hand to his heart..] Why should I hang my head and creep into corners, who have done no wrong to any one ? Let them come— I care not. Lang. [ Without. .] Open the door ! Rich. Who is it knocks ? Lang. [Without] Open the door instantly, or we shall force it. | Knocking again ] Rich. You need not make such a clatter. I hear you. — [ He opens the door J Langley, Monkton, White, Wentworth. Constables. Sfc enter. Lang. [As he enters, j Seize him ! Monk . Stop, stop — not in such a hurry. He shall have fair play. It was that I came for. Lana. Really, Mr. M6nkton, I don’t see what right you have to meddle in this business Monk. May be so, Mr. Langley, but I shall meddle not- withstanding. Richard, you are suspected of a murder, committed within this last hour. You were seen bearing a dead body to the river — your hat was found in the Abbey Close. Rich. All this is true, and yet it is as true that I was not concerned in murdering the guager. Alt. [Except Monkton and Langley.] The guager ! Lang. You seem to know something about this affair. Monk [A jter a pause of consideration . j Y ou must know the perpetrator of this crime. Rich . Ido. Monk. Then jou must witness against him, for, though I may be satisfied of your innocence, the law does not see with my eyes. [During the latter part of the dialogue WlSNT- daughter. 2S t north has been prying about the room.] You say nothing, Ri- chard ? Rich. I know not what to say. [Crosses to l. h. Music.] Went. [Who by this time has found the pocket-book.] Here, too, is a pocket-book, and in it several notes. Rich. In my pocket! that’s impossible. Lang. That’s Tricksey’s pocket-book — lean swear to it. Went . His name is in it, and papers in his own hand- writing? Rich. And you found that in the pocket of my coat ? Lang. To be sure he did. Rich. Then Harrop is a scoundrel. Lang. That won’t do now, young man. If the pocket- book had not been found in your great coat, why then in- deed that might have answered — but now, it won’t do — it won’t do — ’tis too barefaced an expedient. Monk, Richard ! Richard ! Every thing proves the deed to be yours, and the attempt to fix it upon Harrop, because you know how open he is to suspicion —contemptible ! Lang , Away with him, constables— away with him ! Went . But whither ? It’s too far to take him to the county gaol this stormy night. Lang. Right! right ! We’ll confine him then in the bel- fry of the church till morning. When the door is bolted, and the ladder taken away, he’ll never be able to make his escape, unless the devil helps him. So away with him ! Rich. But hear me Monk. Speak, Richard. [Richard attempts to speak , but cannot,] Lang. Hear me no hears — away with him ! [ Some of them lead off Richard, L. h. d. Monkton follows slowly .] SCENE II * — The interior of Harrop ’ Cottage. Enter William, Edward, and Smugglers, r* h. Will . What can have become of your father, Edward ? he has been gone nearly an hour. [Loud and impatient knocking at c. D. R. H.] Edw. Who’s there! [Edward opens the door — Harrop en- ters — a l the Smugglers crowd around him.] Wil. Now, Harrop 2 Smug. Is the guager done for ? Har. Ave, all’s done ? Suspicion has fallen on Richard %4 THE INNKEEPER’S Several Smug. So much the better for you. Har. True, my lads, as far as it goes ; but, to make a. T secure, we must help him to escape, and ship him off to our friends in Holland. Will. Why so? Har. W hi le he remains here, there’s always danger ; once fairly out of the way, all clue would be lost: people would rest contented that he was the murderer, and inquiry would be stifled. W til. W here is he now ? Har. They are taking him to the belfry, and mean to keep him there till daylight. Will. You’ll never be able to get him out. No ladder will reach to half the height. He’s safe enough. Har, We’ll try that directly. Do you run, Edward, and get to the belfry before them, and hide yourself. A$ they have no reason to suppose any body lies hid, you’ll be snug enough. Edw , But what am I to do, father, when I get there 7 Har. Take with you some of the thin tackling that lies in the boat ; and. when you find all's quiet, drop one end out of the window and I’ll fasten a strong rope to it, by which Richard may descend [Edward iioes out c, D. Will. All this is well: but no small boat will live in such a sea as there is to-night. Bar. So much the better — so much the better. Let him once be clear out of the way, and I’m safe, and not till then. W II. That’s hard, too, Harrop, that the poor lad should be drowned. Har. It’s in self-defence, man : besides, he is not one of us : ever since he kept company with Frankland’s daughter at the inn, the fool has learnt to talk of his honesty, and such nonsense : his conscience is too qualmish by half — and if he sta\s here, my life for it, he knocks up the trade. Smug. Let him sink — let him sink ! Har. Now, mv lads, go and haul down the skiff from the beach, and ’ll ofi lo the church. [They all go out r h. except Harrop and William- Harropet/<'$ W illiam suspiciously fora Jew minutes, without speaking .] Now, messmate Wit. This is a bad business. Murdering one another will never answer. hat. Richerd is not one of us, though he does sometimes share a smuggling venture. If ill. Ever since the first blood was shed in our last voy- DAUGHTER. 25 age, things have gone wrong. The Fox was burnt. Phi. wu* killed, and now your wife Har. My wife ! what of her ? Will. She’s half-mad, I take it : an hour ago I met her o a she road to the Abbey Close, Har. The Abbey Close! tV/il. Ves ; she was going to Phil’s grave. Har. By heaven, then ’twas she that 1 — horrible! [He sinks into a chair .] Will. What’s the matter with the man ? Har. Nothing — nothing ! Give me a glass of brandy — poor Marian! — brandy, I say — brandy ! [William gives him a horn, which he dr ins eajerly , a id then dashes away. J That makes all right again -and now to work ! Will But let us hear Har Hear the devil! I tell you what it is, lad — don’t cross me — no, not even with a look — my brain’s on fire — to the work! to the work! [They all go out. SCENE 111. — The interior of the Belfry. On one side an old oak form — >n the middle a tab'e. f Music.] EDWARD enters with a small dark lantern in his hand , and some rope. Edw. I am here first, however — so far is well : and now to let down the string. f Music. He op ns the window and lets d ne of the cross-beams.] Lang. [ Without . j Bring him along! Make haste, for it’s a bitter cold night, Langley, Monkton, Wentworth, Hans Ketzler, and Constables, enter with Kichard. l. h. d. Ketz. [J 5 he enlers.] Cold ! Hoi mich der teufel ! Ich am half frozen ! It is one so cold night in November as you would wish to see. Lang. He is here safe enough, 1 think — yet, it will be as well to keep guard. Who will undertake to watch him til w-orning ? TSIE INNKEEPER’S Monk. For fear he should jump out of the window, l sap- pose, and break his neck ? There is uo other way for him to get out. L iitff. With your good leave, I shall make all secure* Will you watch, Hans ? Ke z Ja 1 wid all mein hertz. Monk, You had much better go home. What is it to you whether the lad escapes or no 1 ? Lang. Pay no attention to what he says. You are a brave fellow. Ketz. Brave ! Ich knew that long ago. Ich fear no- thing — Monk. But the Kobold — you forgot him. Ketz. Der Koboid ? Mein Gott ! a brave man may fear der Kobold. Monk. To be sure he may — therefore take my advice: go home — there’s danger abroad. Kdz You may mock. Mein Herr, aber you sail not make mich der fear. Long. Right, Hans. Only watch here till morning, and I’ll undertake to get for you the guager’s place. Ketz. Danke ihnen - thank you, herr. Ich sail keep der watch, in spite of der Kobold. Lang. Do so. And Thomas -i To one of the Constables ] let him have your blunderbuss. [Monkton pushes back the Constable, who is ab ut to give his blunderbuss to Hans. Monk. Psha ! take my pistols — take my pistols: they 11 do you twice the service. [Monkton takes, a brace of pistols r rom his pocket, and gives r hem to Hans ] Ke z. Ja — der pistol is besser — viel besser. Lang . This is very well : but, for farther security, we must bind him. Stop — there’s an old bell-rope — [T/re Con- stables bmd Richard, who submits in sullen silence.] Monk. Richard, my lad, don’t be cast down— though all appearances are against you, I do believe you are innocent: and, if you are, there is — No, there is not hope S Aside tc him.] Escape, my lad, if you can, for you are in bad bands. Rich. Never mind me, sir. I am not afraid of dying. [Langley, who. during this, tins been employed in giving direc- tions to to Hans and. the Constables, turns round, and seeing Monkton with Richard, comes up to him suspiciously ] Lang. Have you anything else to say to the prisoner, Mr Monkton; for I intend to leave nobody with him but the person appointed for his guard? The constables will watch DAUGHTER 27 in the vestry below, or additional security. Are you ready to retire? Monk. Richard, there is my purse : try and bribe the Ger- man — for, when the morning: comes, they’ll take you to (he county gaol, and then all’s over. Rich. You mean it kindly, I know; but it’s of no use, for the German can’t help me if he would. I anr searching for some time, gives them to understand by signs that he has not got one . Mary beckon* him to take a candle, and by 80 the innkeeper’s appropriate action signifies that he is to burn the rope, Edward ta es the candle , and having carried it to Richard, lays himself down in a remote corner . Mary walks towards the window , and Richard begins to burn the rope.) Sapperment ! dies is der worst bed! was! Hundsfott! [Seeing Richard busy in ing the rope, he levels a pistol at him. At the same instant Mary throws herself before Richard, so as to protect him— the pist r flashes in the pan All this passes with the utmost rapt - dity ; and , at the same moment the pistol is aimed at him — Ri- chard drops the light 1 Why. madehen.you must be rasend — mad ! If der pistol had not missed fire, Ich must have sent the leaden bullet through your head. Rich. My dear Mary ! this is the first time in my life I ever trembled at a loaded pistol. Ketz. [ Who has been examining the pistol .] Loaded ! Gott damn ! there is der priming, but dat is alles ! dere is no bullet. Ah ! ah Ich see now — it is one trick of der Herr Monkton — he is your friend, and did wish you might run off ! Potz ! diess accounts for his talking against the blunderbuss But you area brave madchen, and 1 could almost find in mein hertz to believe der junger did not kill der man. [Dunn, this dialogue Harrop gets in at the window, in l, coming up to Hans .presens a loaded pistol to his head , The face of Harrop is covered with a black crape.) Har. If you call out you are a dead man. Here’s a I nife, girl : cut the rope. [He gives a knife to Mary,u?/io be- gins to sund r ihe rope.) Ketz. Mighty fine! mighty fine! but, notwithstanding that black crape upon your face, Ich can see that you were born to be hung. Har. Is it cut? What do you stand gaping there for, Ned. Lend a hand, or the whole town will be about our ears before it's done. Rich. ’Tis done at last. Har. Off then, and I’ll follow. [Richard crosses to L. H.] Mary. I will not leave yeu, Richard : whatever your fate may be is mine. We’ll live and die together, Har. That nonsense won’t do now. [Hans is stealing to- wards the window. ] Stop ! if you stir another step, I’ll blow your brains out ! Hans. Ich shall stand so stiil as one mouse. Rich. Yes, my dear girl, you shall go with me. Har. I tell you aggin it’s impossible. There is but a Bingle rope and 1 take it she can't get down by that. And DAUGHTER. you, if you wore half as fond of the lad as you pretend i« be, would not hang upon him like a millstone round the neck of a drowning man. Mdry Go, Richard — go ! let me not have to reproach myself with your ruin. Fly, before it is too late. Nay, no words — make haste. Har The least noise will bring them up, and then you are lost Ketz. Will it? Help' help below ! [Hans knocks viols a(tghter % 3: boat is floating on^te water close to the shore l. h . A nchors c«t U of ropes, grappling-irons, Sfc. are scattered around, M a tump, William, and other Smugglers on the shore. *. ,i washing; Richard, whose boat is seen d i c iny violently to icards the long sands. IVl It’s all over with him now: in another minute t‘i€ old skiff is staved upon the sands. Har. Just as it should be for it’s a Hood tide, and the watt-r will soon wash over the rocks. But why is the light- house beacon burning ? That may serve to shew him his danger Ud with you, and dowse the lamp ' Will. Not I. Har Then I will. [Music Harrop enters the light -house and is seen in the gallery- he takes down the light , A deep pea . o/ thunder — the boat th n d ishes against the rocks and i uniedi- ately sinks. Richard gains the rock t and climbs to the top of u.*j The fool's climbing up the rock — as if that wouid do him s any good ! Will. Poor fellow ! he has forgotten the hoed tide ; and lie wonder. Another ten minntes, and he’s lost indeed ’ Har. Huzza! the tide rises 1 he’s — [ The railing against which he leans gi ves wa y with a loud crash, and he tumbles into the water, j By heavens, he’s gone ! Monkton, Langley, Fpanbj-and, Spc. enter with lighted tor chi s* ft >i. Monk. Richard, my iada, is innocent. Where is he? [William points to the Ion g stud.) Mary rushes in r. h .pale and breathless , and her hair streaming wildly to the wind. During the whole of this scene the water ra- pidly gains on the rock of sand Alary. Is he gone ? is it too late ? Monk 1 hope not. Fifty guineas for him that brings back Richard ! William, you are used to rough weather — fifty* guineas ! Wil. I wouldn’t be the man for five hundred — it’s merely throwing away life, Mary. Is there no one will venture out to save the life of a fellow-creature ? Kind, good old man — you will not suffer him to perish before your eyes, almost within the reach of hearing ? Kind, generous Richard ! you would have died to »ave the life ol any one ol these ; and yet, amongst them all, herp is not a heart of courage enough to brave a gust uf the innkeeper’s Brighter Will A gust of wind, do you call it?^i have for th^rtv tears, man and boy, looked upon rough weather ; but tusi storm of to-night goes beyond every thing. Mary. All are cowards ! Not one will move! Well, then, Richard, I promised you should not die alone. [Mary leaps into the storm-boat ] Monk. Are you mad, Mary ? Mary. Death was my promise, and I go to keep it ! Will , If a girl’s not afraid, I don’t see why I should be. I William leaps into the bmt. Music. Thunder. A flash of lightning blazes around the boat , which is seen at the top of a mountainous wave, and in the next moment is lost to the sight.] Monk. By heavens, they are lost ! 1 Smug. No ! they have weathered it ! And look, they have thrown out a rope to young Richard, who is making for the v oat. [At the very moment that Richard leaves the rock, the waves burst furiously over it. The boat returns , and Richard springs to the shore with Mary, half fainting , in his arms — the Characters group around them • Music . The cur- tain siowh/ descends.'' THE RN1> ider Tra- ie is Man ’stheDevil :ay Day f Death ng Old ress[Stairs s Curse The Nero British Theatre. 263 Faith&Falsehoodj812 Duenna 264 My Fellow Clerk 318 Devil’s Daughters 265 Peregrinations of 314 Bandit of the Pickwick 266 Cupid 267 No Followers 268 The Avssignation 269 King John Tra-l317 A Close Siege vestie 270 A Quiet Day 271 272 Parole of Honour 273 Joan of Arc 274 Last Nail VOL. XVIII. 275 Isaure theManiac 276 Black Domino— (Opera) 277 Pascal Bruno 278 King’s Wager 279 Wanted aBrigand 280 I and my Double 281 ’Tis She 282 Bell Ringer of St. Paul’s 283 Orphan of Wreck 284 ConqueringGame 285 My Sister Kate 285 King’s Gardener ty Sinnersj287 King of the Mist do thf' 12S3 Jr. tin, Love. & War 289 i.ear Admiral 290 Fairy Lake VOL. XIX. 291 John Bull 292 Loves of Lord Bateman 293 Idiot Boy of Heilberg 294 Wedding Gown 255 Mountaineers 296 Death Plank 297 Iron Chest 298 Behind theScenes 299 Little Back Par lour 300 301 Lady of Lam by the 302 Love's Labour’s Lost 303 Alive and Merry 304 'Lochinvar 305 MilitryExecution 306 Therese VOL. XX. 307 GoodNight’sRest 308 Poor Gentleman 309 Domino i’» Fame of Blue XV. pmanEasy 7 ay to Pay Debts f Corbeil f Wapping Dream mtpier nd Charity ing Polly Sins and ioHer of Fate doublet the Cruel XVI. migrant's ghter s Pets :cusation s Strop aokets e of Com- [fort arnley 3oys sadress ie Atten- l Chief ave I done sy others Hi XVII. Tiller and Mizen y’s Wea- Almanack f the Lock us the i-un. 310 A Night in the Bastille 311 Crichton, or the Dragon Knight m Blind Mine 315 My Lord is not my Lord 316 SI 8 Miller of Mans - 319 [held 320 Double Gallant 321 Clandestine Mar- riage [Alive 322 Happiest Man VOL. XXI. 323 Serpent of Nile 324Pi»k of Politeness 325 M as t . H umphrey ’s Clock 326 327 Ruby feing 328 Jane of the Hat- 329 Marceline [chet 330 Like Father, like Son 331 Guido Fawkes 332 Englishmen in India 333 Temple of Death 334 Helen Oakleigh 335 Railroad Station 336 Loss of the Royal George 337 Robespierre 338 White Milliner VOL. XXII 339 Sergeant’s Wed- ding [missed 340 Fairly hit & fairly 341 Innkeeper’s Daughter 342 MyWife’sDentist 343 Rubber of Life 344 Teddy Roe 345 Barnaby Rudge 346 II Paddy Whack in Italia 347 Lady&Gentleman in a Perplexing Predicament 348 Cousin Peter 349 Queen of Cyprus 350 Windmill 351 Bathing 352 Nick of the Woods 353 Norma 354 Meet me byMoon light VOL. XXIII. 355 New Footman 356 Lucky Stars 357 ' 358 Norma Travestie 359 Memoirs of tfce Devil 360 Cousin Lambkin 36 iu: vi iser’s Daughter 362 My Valet and I 363 Antony and Cleo- patra ( Fares) 364 Pride of Birth 365 Court Fool 366 Captain Charlotte 367 Yankee Notes 368 Angel of the Attio 369 Ondine 370 Asmodeua, the Little Devil VOL. XXIV. 371 Aline 372 Double-bedded Room [Floor 373 My Wife’s Second 374 Ambassador’s Lady [fast 375 Wedding Break- 370 Linda 377 Siege of Rochelle 378MoralPhilosopher 379 Railroad Trip 380 My Wife’s Come 381 Bohemians of Paris 382 Meg Murnock 383 Lesson for Genj tlemen * 384 OidCuriosityShop 385 Christmas Carol 386 King Richard ye Third VOL. XXV. 387 Roll of the Drum 388 Young Scamp 389 Mistaken Story 390 Whitefriars 391 Signal 392 Barark Johnson 393 Post of Honour 394 The Polka 395 Soldier’s Orphan 396 Georgy Barnwell 397 River God 393 Guardian Sylph 399 400MartinChuzzlewit 401 Milliner’s Holiday 402 Judith of Geneva VOL. XXVI. 403 404 Mysteries ofParia 405DonCesardeBazan 406 Protector 407 Seated Sentence 408 Young England 409 Home Again HO Review 11 1 Corporal's Wed- 112 House Dog US La Dame de St Trope* [pol- f!4 Margaret Ca ch US Smoked Miser US Madelaine U 7 Widow Be witchei 118 Midnight VOL. XXVII. 129 Another Glass 120 S?cret Foe 121 King and I \21 Mrs. Caudle’s Curtain Lecture (Lyceum) [28 Powder and Bal >24 Mrs. Caudle, oi CurtainLectures (Princess's) fS5 Love in Livery [26 Faith, Hope, am 27 L^steili [Chariti !28 Wolsey 29 Lodgings for Sin gle Gentlemer. 130 31 Railway King J2 Popping in & Ou Pi Who a t lie Com- poser ? VOL XXVIII. 84 Cut for Partners 35 Minut GunatSe. S3 Mendicant’s Son 37 Cricket on 1 1 -art;. C3 Phantom Break- 39 NorahCreiuaf fas 43 41 Sea King s Vow 42 Done Brown 43 On the Tiles Tho New British Theatre* fdfnrjM4 Last KIm ,478 The Secret 445 Laid up in Port 446 [House 447 Blechmgton 14S Sister and I 449 Loan of a Wife VOL. XXIX. 450 Above and 3elow 451 Weaver of Lyons 452 Advice to Hus- bands 453 Barber and Bravo L' 4 Mrs. Harris 455 Fellow Servants 456 Battle of Life 457 Hand of Cards 458 Queen of Abruzzi 459 £500 Reward 460 Raby Rattler 461 Lilly Dawson 462 LittleNunffavoUr 163 Kissing goes by 464 Perourou, the VOL. XX 514 Clarence; 515 Unprote male 516 Turnpik "17 Nell Gw (Jerrolc 518 Three Ci 319 Three Pi 520 Adam B 521 522 Not to In 523 White Si 524 102,ortht and his 525 Blood Re 526 Sent to tl 527 Allow mi logize 528 Temptati 529 Teacher VOL. XX 530 Belphegi 531 Hans Vo 532 Greek SI 583 Bould Sc 534Azael the 535 Robert tl 536 Ragged 537 Last of th 538 Scarlet M 539 Alice Ma 540 A Plain ( 541 Peter the 542 543 Wellingf Waterlc 544 The Gold £45 Old Ada; 546 Lamplig 54? 'mr. facet tors ... 548 8hootirig 1 * 1 Sixpence eaied 479 Tom Smart 480 Traveller’s Room 481 Crock of Gold VOL. XXXL 482 Peggy Green 483 Deserted Mill 484 485 Damon & Pythias 486 Marguerite’s Co- lours [Joke 487 A Devilish Good 488 BedroomWindow 489 Old Honesty 490 Jonathan [dies 491 Nice Young La- 492Going totheDerby 493 Tutor’s Assistant 494 Poor Pillicoddy 495 Founded onFacts 496 Midnight Watch 197 vol. xxxir. Bellows Mender 498 Roman Actor 465 499 Dance of theShfrt Vt«L. XX>w. 5'<0 Marmion [Bml 466 The Discarded 501 Brigands in the Daughter 467 Bridge of Notre Darns [68 Buffalo Girls 469 Obi, or3-llngered Jack 170 Anchor of Hope 171 Rival Sergeants [72 Rag Picke ; of Paris 473 Who do they take me for t 47i t 5 Out on the Sly [76 Industry-arid In- 502 Lost Diamonds 503 Idiot of the Mill 504 The Trumpeter’s Wedding 505 Sixteen String Jack 506 Separate Mainte- nance 507 Mother's Bequest 508 Manager in Dis- tress 509 Gipsey Farmer 510 Cnamher Practice 511 It’s only my Aunt tolence [band?|512 Royal Red Book 477 Who’s my Hus- 513 Rln«r, or Farmer** Dan ’liter Be!! Rincer, ar Hunchback Not re Dair.e IV.ind B‘>e«r:m>fB‘'tbnn!Gr o ei Court of Qii--n Ari l*, or h Princr& the Br o besMakci Sixtus the F.f'h Wild Bov of ’h.h-nBa ; A. Night wi h ihnlt) Piiieve Ch^ o Bay ’ Eh pa ant of *5 nm Mild o‘ S wi ’*:*!■ ami Kiehd. Turpin 4 ’» * fom Ki-e Ca»e*-Mri's Son o' ‘tie Hr -a ' : «f Military PunUiiniunt ’retender, or Rose of A I rev Wizard Priest, or the Haii ore’s Frailties [of Fat>. Battle of Waterloo i goes ds Vere. Is. \helard and Helo »?, 1». ■h*a - pH of London, Is. rish Heiress, 1 s. Frightened to Death, 2s. dioMierarid Sister, Is. I -ar: o’" London, Is. f<>n'*ie , 'r Mallet, 2s. !•' ital l'ii riosity, Is. iis-»Me. 2a C&; niuil of Naples It.