wm iff ^^!-^ The hidden hand Southvvorth 1 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Exchanf/ad. Price 15 CenU. I^NCER'S UNIVERSAL STAGE. No. 48. HE p[iDDEN Hand. A ©pama ?«i F??@ A©t«* BY ROBERT J O IST E S B S T N : GEOF^GE M. BAKER & CO. 41-45 Franklin Street. Vi'ETSUr PLAYS. Uncle Robert. Comedy in Tliree Acts. 7 male, 1 female character. The "Wife* Secret. Play in Five Acts. 9 male, 3 fenmle characters. The Vlrsinla, Veteran. Drama in 4 Acts. 11 male, 4 female characters. SPEITCER'S UNIVERSAL STAGE. ^ A Collection of COMEDIES, DRAMAS, and FARCES, adapted to either Public or Private Performance. Couiaining a full description of all the necessary Stage Business. miCE, 15 CENTS EA.CH. l^^ No Tlayf exchanged. 2. 3. -^ 4. I 2 > 8. nio liost fn XiOndon. A Drama hi Three Acts. G Mule, 4 Female char- acters. IVicholas Flam, A Comedy in Two Acts. By J. B. Buckstone. 5 Male, 3 Female characters. Tlie WelsSk Girl. A Comedy in One Act. By Mrs. Plandhe. 3 Male, 2 Female characters. John '^Vopps. A Fai-ce in One Act. By W. E. Suter. 4 Male, 2 F.-male characters. Tlie Turlcisli Bath. A Farce in One Act. By Montague Williams and F. C. Burnand. Male, 1 Fe- male character. The Two Puddifoots. A Farce in One Act. By J. M. Slorton. 3 Male, 3 Female characters. Old Honesty. A Comic Drama in Two Acts. By J. M. Morton, 5 Male, 2 Female characters. Two Gentlemen in a Fix. A Farce in One Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 Male characters. Smashinston Goit. A Farce in One Act. By T. J. Williams. 5 Male, 3 Female characters. Two Heads Better thanOne. A Farce in One Act. By Lenox Home. 4 Male, 1 Female character. 11. John I>obb8. A Farce in One Act. By J. M. Morton. 6 Male, 2 Female characters. The Daughter of the RcKi* ment. A Drama in Two Acts. By Edward Fitzball. 6 Male, 2 Female characters. Aunt Charlotte's Itlald. A Farce in One Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 Male, 3 Female characters. Brother Bill and Mc. A Farce in One Act, By W. E. Suter. 4 Male, 3 Female characters. '^ 15. I>one o<n Both Sides. A Farce in One Act. By J, M. Morton. 3 Male, 2 Female characters. T*undnck;etty'8 Picnic. A Farce in One Act. By T. J. Williams. Male, 3 Female chafacters. I've -written to Brotvne. A Farce in One Act. By T. J, Williams. 4 Male, 3 Female characters. 12. 13. 14. 1/. ^ 18. ^.ending a Hand. A Farce in One Act. By G. A, A'Becket. 3 Male, 2 1- emale characters. 11). My Precious Betsy. A Farce in One Act By J. M, Slorton. 4 Male, 4 Feni.ii. characters. 20. MyTurnXext. A Farce in One Act. By T. .1. Williams. 4 Male, 3 Fe- male cini-j.-ters. 21. Nine Po!^i< » of the Law, A Com- edy in -.Ml.- Act. By Tom Taylor. 4 Male, .> I'emale characters. . 22. The Pluantont Breakfast. A Farce in One Act. By Charles Sel- by. 3 Male, 2 Female characters. 23. I>andelions Bodges. A Farce in One Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 Male, 2 Female characters. 24. A Slice of Luck. A Farce in One Act. 1 - J. M. Morton. 4 3Iale, 2 Female c^^.^acter6. 25. Always Intended. A Comedy in One Act, }iy Horace Wigan. 3 Male. 3 Female characters. 26. A Bull in a China Shop. A Com- edy in Two Acts. By Charles Mat- thews. 6 Male, 4 Female characters. 27. Another Glass. A Drama in One Act, By Thomas Morton. 6 Male, 3 Female characters. 28. Bo-wled Out, A Farce in One Act. By H. T. Craven. 4 Male, 3 Female characters. 29. Cousin Tom. A Commedietta in One Act, By George Roberts. 3 Male, 2 Female characters. 30. Sarah's YouMg Man. A Farce in One Act. By W. E. Suter. 3 3Iale, 3 Female characters. 31. Hit Him, He has No Friends. A Farce in One Act. By E. Yates and N, H, Harrington. 7 Male, 3 Female characters. 3?- The Christening, A Farce in One ♦ id. By J. B. Buckston*. 5 Male, d Female characters. 3b. A Race for a TVidoiv. A Farce in One Act. By Thomas J, Wil- liams, u Male, 4 Female characters, ?^ Your Life's in Banker, A Farce ^ in One Act. By J. ">!. Morton. 3 ^ Male, 3 Female characters. 3i, True unto Beath. A Drama in Two Acts. By J. .Slieridan Knowles (5 Male, 2 Femuk- ch:H-acters. (9 (-> ^ O J^OOOeXy wO L-O ©OO^>CODQD£iOQ^^Q^Ck0CCZI4; CCZ.'vL. 'O^ ^m^ZjC CC THE HIDDEN HAND. % §xnmn, IN FIVE ACTS. ADAPTED FROM SIES. E3IMA D. E. N. SOUTHWOKTE'fi CELEBRATED NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME, PUBLISHED IN THE NEW YORK LEDGER. BY ROBERT JONES. CAST OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, ETC., ETC., CORRECTLY MARKED. BOSTON: GEO. M. B/VKER & CO. g i il«iiliil||liip.r < a= S ^^ B •a a ^i ^-llllliis ill-Ill s»^lp2 I . II ^i^sQ.;;.^^ KH H,la ^^i^l^l « 5 1H to en to CD U3 ^ g—:: ::-:::: = = = 3::::::= ggs^sg'^ § | S IPiillii.lli K^iiti s ^ -r .- • • "^ i I 5 . . . . . . .h • . • •§ B^ .,■» .- K . . . ^ . . • g g. 6-1 •§• I •••..§.. . ^ THE HIDDEN HAND. ACT I. SCENE 1. TliG Hudson Biver liailroad Depot, Kew TorTt.— Apple-woman's stand, r. ii. — People passing and re-passing. — ^ Four-cent Man, news-hoys, &c., discovered. — Music. — Harrt tl Willing and Gentleman Dick enter, l. 2 e. — Policeman **• crosses from ii. to l., icatching them. >- g Newshotj. Buy a paper, sir? 'crakl and Ledger. t« Dick (r.) No ; get out. I never patronize tlic papers, because '£2 they're down upon our frateruit)% But, Harry, this is dull -^ worl^. I haven't taken a trick to-day. Harry (l.) Nor I either. The greenies are scarce, now. What few do come to town are warned so much by tlie news- ^ papers that we don't stand the ghost of a chance to make a ^ living. If this thing goes on much longer, I shall starve to ^ death. ^ Dick. Not a bit of it, my boy. Have courage. Our country owes us a living; and if she don't find me one, it won't be my fault. (Dming tJiis, the cars have passed into the depot. — Bell now rings.) Ah, there's the cars. Come along, and let's see if , we can't find a victim. ^ {^Tliey exit, l. n. 2 e. — ^ number of hackmen cross from r. to l., encountering Major Warfield, who enters, l. 2 e., surrounded ^5 andfolloioed by newsboys, porters, hackmen, <Cc.) O Hackman. St. Nicholas, Metropolitan, La Farge, and Ever- CQ ett House, sir? lu Hurricane. No ; confound you ! ^ Newsboy. Carry your portmanteau, sir? 'j Hur. Get out, you rascals ! I'll see you hanged first. Out -/ of the way, or I'll break your head, sirrah. {Stinking about at random, with his portmanteau, he drives them off, l. 2 e.) Phew ! they don't rob me, if I know it. Well, here I am, on a wild- goose chase, I suppose ; and yet old Nancy Grewel must have S ^iL -j£i s^ _,!i_ '^fr.;' \J f THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT JU spoke the tnith about the child. If it be so, Gabriel Lc Noir, better you had ^st yourself down from the highest rock of the range, than thus have fallen into my power. {During this, Capitola has entered. — She is dressed in rags, as a newsboy, and has a bundle of neiospapers under her arm. — She goes to apple-stand, buys an apple, munches it, and, by the end 0/ Hukkicaxe's speech, advances to him.) Capitola (advances). Please, sir, do you want your carpet- bag carried ? Hur. Good gracious ! this must be crown prince and heir apparent to the king of shreds and patches. Cap. Well, governor, if you've looked long enough, per- haps you'll knoAY me next time. Hur. O Lord ! he looks as if he'd never,seen soap and water in all his life. I reckon 111 give you the job, my son. Cap. O crickey ! his son; my governor's turned up at last! Do you hear that, fellows? (2b neiosboys, icho have been pass- ing on and off all through this scene.) I always had an impres- sion that I had a father, at some period of my life; and here he is. Who knows but what I might have had a mother also? How's the old woman, sir? Hur. What are you talking about, you infatuated tatterde- malion ! If it wasn't for pity, demme — demmc — I'd have you put in the pillory. Cap. Thank'ee, sir, I have not had a pillow under my head for a long time. Hur. Silence, ragamuffin ! Cap. Just so ; a dumb girl is better than a talking one. Hur. Boy. do you know such a place as Rag Alley ? Cap. Do'l? Don't I? There's the very place. {Points t^.) Hur. There ? Why, that's a handsome street. Cap. That's it though ; but 'taint called Rag Alley now; it's Eifalutin Terrace. Them tenements you talk of was pulled down more'u a year ago, and those houses put up in their place. Hur. And what became of the original tenants? Cap. (spouting). "Ask of the winds that for miles around, with fragments strewed the sea ! " Oh ! blowcd away ; thrown away with the rest of the rubbish. Hur. Humph, demme, then the trace is lost. But let me see that I am right. (Takes out paper, and reads: *' Go to New York — find out a family by the name of Simmons, who resides in Hag Alley — Kith' them you will find the child.") So I am cor- rect. What shall I do now, — advertise iu the papers, or apply to the police ? I'll do both. Yes, I'll go at once. Here, boy (to Capitola), carry ray portmanteau up to the Astor House; and there's for your trouble. (Gives her a dollar. — Crosses to n.) Cap. (aside). Why, lord, it can't be; he must have made a mistake. What if he did? I don't care. Yes I do, though, bonor bright — I say, governor? Scene 1.] the hidden hand. 8 Iliir. Well, my lad. Cap. You've been and gone and give me a whole dollar, by mistake. # Huv. IIow the devil do you knovr it's a mistake, you monkey you? Take it, and be off Avitli you. Cap. Stay, governor, don't tempt me, because you see I'm not sure I could keep honest if I was tempted too hard. I know you're from the country, and I must not impose upon your ignorance. JIar. My ignorance — demme — you impudent villain ! Cap. Yes, you aint cut your eye-teeth yet; you aint up to snuff; you don't know nothing; it's lucky you fell in with an honest lad like me, that would not impose upon your inno- cence. Why, the usual price isn't more than a dime. Ilur. What do I care for the usual price, you — you — prod- igy of patches. There, there's au eagle for your lionesty ; and for the Lord's sake get yourself a decent suit of clothes. {Gives monei/.) Cap. lie's mad ! I wonder who his keeper is ? — Thank you, sir. I"ll go and tell the police to keep an eye on him. I say, fellows, come along; I'll stand the coffee and cakes. Here's the Herald, Tribune, and Ledger, {Exits, L. 1 E. carryinfj the portmanteau, and followed by the news- hoys. — The apple-woman on n. now moves off slowly, r. 2 e., with her stand.) Hiir. Demme, I wouldn't have believed it; — honesty in the streets of New York. Why, I've heard tliat a stranger is cer- tain to be plucked by the sharpers who infest the streets; and here I liave a positive contradiction. Now then, for the Police Court. 'Tis there I must seek my information, now. {As he is going ojf, n. ir. I i:., Gentleman Dick, dressed as a 3Iethodist parson, and fjlluwed by Harry, disguised as a porter, enters hastily, l, 2 e.) Dick {to Hurricane). Sir. my dear sir, I beg pardon; but could you oblige me with change for a twent3'-dolKar bill? I am about to leave by the next train, and I wish to give this good man live dollars. You'll oblige me much if you can accommo- date me. Hur. Oh, certainly, sir ; with the greatest pleasure. ( Takes out pocket-book.') There, sir, two lives and a ten. Will that suit? Dick. Thank you, sir. At any time I can return the favor, command me. My card, sir. Should you be in our part of the city, shall be glad to have you call upon rae. ( 7o Harry) There, my good man. {Gives him a bill.) Now then, quick, or I shall *ose the cars. {Exit, hastily l. 2 e., with H^uoiY. — People an crossing, during this, at back.) Hur. (reads card). Reverend Zebediah Hawkins. Really a very respectable gentleman. If I have time, I'll call upon him 1* 6 ' THE niDDEX IIAITD. [ACT L Now then, for the Police Court. (^Ue exits, r. 1 e. — Music. — Four-cent Man enters, r. 2 e.) F. C. Man. (o^sses to c.) Anything on the board for foui cents. Enter woman, l. 1 e. Woman (takes up tooth-brush). "What's the price of this tooth- brush? F. C. Man. Tweuty-five cents, ma'am. Woman. Why, didn't you say anything on the board four cents? F. C. Man. Yes, ma'am; but that's in your hand. Second- hand ones half price. ( Woman throics dov:n brush on board, in- difjnantly, and exits, r. 1 e. — Four-cent Man exits, l. 2 e., crying *'Ani/ article" &c.' — Music co-ntimies FP until scene changes.) SCENE 2. — Interior of Police Court, in the Tombs. — Judge and clerks discovered. — Desk, c. — Policeman. — Spectators on R. and L. At opening of scene, a co'-fused murmuring. Judge (c.) Order in the court ! Hurricane (^outside). But I tell you I wish to sec the Chief of the Police. Officer (outside). You'll find him on the other side of the hall. (HuRPviCANE enters, r. 1 e. — A noise heard, l. 1 e., and Capi- tola's voice.) Cap. (outside). I tell you I haiut done nothin'. (Officer draffs her on, followed by a croicd of neicsboys.) Hur. (r.) Eh? what's this? in trouble, ray lad? Come, pluck up. I'll see you through. Officer. Lad ! "VYhj^ Lord bless your soul, sir, she's a girl, in boy's clothes. ( 3o C-\pitoi.a) You young devil! you deserve to "be sent up for three months, at least. (Shakes her roughly.) Hur. (in a rage, crossing to c.) A girl, is she? Then, dcrame, sir, whether in boys' clothes, men's clothes, soldiers' clothes, or no clothes at all, treat her with the delicacy due to woman- liood ! She is a poor, friendless child ; so no more hard words to her, or, by the Everlasting! I'll-^ Judge. Order! order! Hur. (crossing back to R.) Yes, judge, I will keep order, if you'll make that brute of a policeman reform his language. Cap. Governor, don't keep a lettiu' out in that way or they'll commit you for contempt. Hur. i plead guilty to contempt. I suppose they'll imprison you next. But they sha'n't do it. I, Major Wariield, of Vir- giuia, tell you so, my boy — girl, I mean. Cap. What an innocent old lion you are ! Judge. Order I AVhat's your name, my lad — girl, I should say? Cap. Capitola, sir. Hur. (aside). Capitola— Capitola. That's the name of the Scene 2.] the hidden hand. t child I'm after. Can't be two Capitolas in the world. Bt^t ^'11' listen, and say nothing-. {.Takes chair, ii.) Judge. Capitola what? Cap. Kotiiing, sir. I aint got no more than Capitola, sir. Judge. Who^is your fiithcr? Cap. Never had none that I knows on, sir. Judge. Your mother? Cap. Never had a mother, sir, as ever I heard. Judge. Where do you live? Cap. About in spots. liar. O Lord ! O Lord ! Judge. Order, there ! What's your calling? Cap. Sclliug papers, sweeping crossings, blacking boots, and so on. Judge. What tempted yon to put yourself in boys' attire? Cap. Want, sir, and — and — {sobbing) — danger. Hur, Oh! — demme! — oh! oh! Judge. Order! Give a clear account of yourself ; — give a clear account, now. Go on, my good boy — girl, I mean. Hur. (Jiastilij). Yes, demme, go on. Judge. Will you keep order, sir? Go on, girl. Cap. It isn't much, sir, I have to tell. I was brought up in Eag Alley, by an old woman named Nancy Grewell. I never suffered cold or hunger until about eighteen months ago, when Crranny took it into her head to go down to Virginia. She never came back again, and by that I knew she must have died. Hur. A\\\ poor child! poor child! Cap. AVell, for a month or two I got along well enough; a poor fiimily, named Simmons, gave me shelter; and I did little odd jobs for my food, till at length they moved away from the city. Judge. And you were left all alone ? Cap. Yes, sir, in the empty house, till it should be rented to another tenant; but it never was rented, for word went round that the whole row was to be pulled down, and so I had leave to stay as long as the rats did. Judge. But how did^j-ou get your bread, now? Cap. Didn't get it at all, sir, bread was too dear. I sold ray clothes, piece by piece, to an old Jew; bought corn meal, and picked up chips enough to make a fire, and cooked a little mush every day, in an old tin can I found in the house. So I lived on for two or three weeks; then, when my meal was about gone I commenced and made gruel. Judge. But why did you not seek for something to do? Cap. I tried every hour in the day ; but nobody seemed to want me ; some laughed at me, and there seemed nothing but. starvation and death before me. Hur. O Lord! O Lord! that such things should be, in a Christian land ! Judge. Will you keep order, sir ? B THE HIDDEN llAJ^. [ACT !■ Cap. But there was ^Yorsc behind ; there came a day when my meal icas all ^£?one ; then I kept life in me by drinking water, and sleeping all I could. One morning I was waked up by a great noise ; I staggered to my feet, and there, sir, were the workmen pulling down tlic house over my head. Friglit gave me strength to run from it, and tlien I paused and looked ; the last shelter was gone from me, so I thought I'd go and pitch myself into the river. Judge. That was a wicked thought, girl. Caj-). I know it was. Well, sir,^the hand -that feeds the ra- vens kept me from dying that daj'. I found a five-cent piece, bought a muffin, and when niglit came I liid myself behind a pile of planks in a lumber yard. I slept till morning. Well, not to tire your honor, I lived on my half dime, spending a cent adav', and sleeping sometimes under t!ie stoop of a house, sometimes in the lumber yard, but always in danger from bad men and boys; but (sobbinr/) I took care of mj'self, {fiercely^ ; yon mustn't any of you dare to think but what I did. Officer. Oh, of course you did — of course. Ha, ha, ha! Hiir. (starts vp, and crosses to c.) What do you mean by " Of course," you villain? Demme, 111 swear she did; and if any man dares to hint otherwise, I'll ram his falsehood down his throat with my walking-stick, {llircatcninr/.') Judge. Order! order, I say! Hur. {crosses to k.) Yes, judge, I'll regard order. But if the Court doesn't protect the child from insult, I will, order or na order, demme ! (Sits.) Cap. Governor, don't be so noisy, or they will put you in the stone jug. Why, you remind me of an old fellow granny used to talk about, — old Hurricane they called him, because he was so stormy. Hur. Ha, ha ! she's heard of me, then. Cap. Well, your honor, when my last penny was gone, a bright thought struck me. I wondered why I had been so stupid as not to think of it before, so I ran to the old Jew's shop and swapped my suit of girl's for the raggedest suit of boy's clothes he had in the shop. I went into that shop a gii'l and came out a boy. My long ringlets he gave me sixpence for. Hur. Yes, all was grist that comes to his mill. Cap. That's so, governor^ well, that night I slept in peace, behind a pile of boxes, and in the morning I found plenty to do ; I bought papers and sold 'em, carried carpet-bags, cleaned sidewalks, and did anything an honest lad could turn his hand to, and ror more than a year I was happy as a king. This morning, as I was on my way, governor, with your portman- teau, tlie wind blowed off my hat, and the policeman blowed on me. Judge. I'm afraid we shall have to send her to the House of tiefuge. Scene 2.] the hidden hakd. 9 Hur. (aside). Demme if you do, though. (To Judge) Judge, if a legal guardian appears td claim this girl, may she not ba delivered into his hands ? Judge. Most assuredly. Hur. Then, sir, I, Ira Warfield, of Hurricane Hall, in Vir- ginia, claim this girl, Capitola Black, as my ward. For my personal responsibility, I refer you to the proprietors of the Astor House, who have known me for years. Judge. It is not necessary, Mr. Warfield. We assume the fact of your responsibility, and deliver up the girl to your charge. Hur. I thank you, judge. Capitola, will you go down to old Virginia with me ? Cajy. Will I? won't I? because I know you'll be kind to me. Hur. Kind! Ay, that I will. But I say, I shall have to trust to your girl's wit to get yourself into your proper clothes without exciting further notice. Cap. All right, governor ; there's a ready-made clothing shop at the "Needle-Woman's Aid," round the corner. I can go down there and get rigged out. Hur. Rigged out! Oh, demme! Well, there's a twenty- dollar bill. Call a hack, and when you've got everything ar- ranged drive back to the Astor, where I shall be to receive you. Good morning, judge. (Going r.) Cap. I say, governor, none of that, now ; it won't do. You can't come tiiat on me. Hur. Demme ! what do you mean? Cap. Why, this bill is bogus ! — it's queer I Hur. Bogus ! — queer ! Cap. It's a bad bill. Why, don't you see, Clara Bank, Coney Island. Hur. But I received it from a most respectable individual. Cap. Lor' bless your green soul ! you've been done ; that indi- vidual was nothing less than a sharper; I shall have to keep you under my eye ; you aint old enough to take care of your- self. Hur. Oh, the Lorct! I, Ira Warfield, to be taken in by a sharper! I'll -- demme — let's find the rogue! (Spectators laugh.) What the deuce are you laugiiing at, you villains you? Laugh at me! Come along, boy — girlj^I mean. We'll hunt this rascal up ; and if I find him I'll ram this bill down his con- founded throat with my walking-stick. (He is going r., when Gentleman Dick enters, still dressed as the parson, r. 1 e. — ■ Hurried mudc till end of act.) Demme, there he is ! (Seizes Dick, throws him round to c, and belabors him with cane. — The Judge rises, calling " Order!"— Officer endeavors to interfere. — Capitola j?(wj9s on stool.) Cap. Go it, governor ! — two to one on the gov. (Wavea cap, — Act-<Irop descends rapidly.) End op Act I. 10 THE HIDDEN nAOT>. [ACT It ACT II. SCENE 1. — A cJiamber in Hurricane Hall, 1st G. — Music, " IFag down in Old Virr/inny." Enter Wool, r. 1 e. Wool. Yah, yah ! 'pears to me ole massa isn't right in his head-piece, eber since lie went to see de ole witch, and den went off to New York; and now's come back wid a young gal dey call Miss Catapiller. Yah, yah ! golly, dar's a name, I be- lieve you. She's bos of de house, now. Ole Missus Cardimens aint 110 whar. Don't she star era round, I b'lieve you ! She aiut no fool, she aiut. Well, tings is altered a good deal ; and dem as libs longest will see de most. Capitola (iDithout). Come along, governor. Enter Capitola, l. 1 e., dragging Hurricane by both hands, and laughing. Hur. She — shew ! you witch ! stop, will you ! demme ! Cap. Never mind, gov., it will do you good, j'ou've all been asleep in this old house, and I intend to wake you up a bit. Wool. Yes, I believe you. Yah, j-ah, j^ah! Hur. Well now tell me, Cap, how do you like your new home? Cap. Oh, gloriously ! What a jolly place it is ! I like it all but , that old dingy room that your house-keeper has been kind enough to put me in. Hur. What, the old room in the east wing, eh? I tell you what, girl, if that room could speak, it could tell many a queer tale. There is a trap-door in it. Cap. A trap-door! Where? Hur. In front of the fireplace, beneath the hearth-rug. But you shall have another, if you don't like that. Cap. No, no, gov., you've roused my curiosity, and I rather think I shall like it. Wool. More'u I should, by golly ! Cap. Come, let's hear all about it? Is there a cellar under that trap ? Hur. I never took the trouble to ascertain. Wool. But I did, massa major; I found out all about it. Hur. You, you black scoundrel! Wool. Yes,' I believe you. You see, Mrs. Condiment told I and Pit-a-Pat to get de room ready for Miss Catapiller; and while we was doing so, dc rug was moved. I seed dar was a door dar; so I slips de bolt, and down it fell; and dere I saw — ^^; I Well, what? Wool. Nuffin — Cav. Nothing! •Scene 1.] the hidden hand. II Wool. But a big hole ! But clat isn't all. You see, I got a little curious ; so I got a lighted stick from de fire, and held it down as far as I could reach ; and den I saw — Cap. Well, what? what? Wool. Nuffin, too. Hiir. Why, you black scoundrel, do you call that finding out all about it? Demme, sir, none of your jokes, or I'll break your confounded thick head for you. Cap. There, there, that'll do, gov. ; now tell me all about the trap-door. llur. Report says it was constructed to deceive the Indians. That room belongs to the oldest part of the house ; and the first owner of it was Henri Le Noir, one of the grandest villains that ever lived. They say it has an outlet that reaches to the Devil's Punch-bowl, in the hills over yonder. Cap. The Devil's Punch-bowl ! Wool. 1 shouldn't like to drink any punch out of dat bowl. Ilur. Yes, a hollow that drops suddenly in the hills, in the shape of a punch-bowl; long the resort of villains, and men of the worst stamp. Hence its name. Cap. I must see that place. Hur. What, girl ! If you value your life, avoid that spot. In short, I command you never in all your rides to go beyond the base of the hills. • - Cap. Command; come, I like that, gov.; you know I'm not used to being commanded. I didn't live in Rag Alley for noth- ing, I can tell you. Hur. Rag Alley ! Will you never forget that home of rags and tatters ? Cap. It was the home of independence, if it was one of pov- erty ; but there, we won't quarrel about it. iVool. Better not, Miss Catapiller. De massa's de debeJ when he's angry. Hur. And now, you jade, I've got a pony I intend to give you. You must learn to ride. Cap. I learn to ride ? O nunkey ! where is he ? let me see him. I shall go crazy with joy I Wool. Yes, miss, a pony. A pony is a young horse. JIur. Silence ! He's on the lavrn, yonder. He's rather skit- tish. You'll perhaps get a fall or two ; but that'll bring yoo back to your senses. Wool. Don't know about dat, massa major. Don't you 'mem- ber de fnst time I mount him? Hiir. 1 do, you black thief. Ha, ha, ha ! he pitched you over his head twenty feet; and if your skull hadn't been plaguy thick, you wouldn't have been worth a picayune this day. Re- member it? Demme, I do. I never laughed so much in all my life. (BatJi laugh heartily at Wool.) Wool. Yes, yes, I believe you. But, I say, massa, yea re- member, also, when you tried your hand at him ? 12 THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACl IL Hur. AVhat do you mean, you rascal ? If you dare — Cap Oh, yes, let's have it. Tell it, Wool. Wool. Vv'cll, jest make massa stand closer off. Well, you see, he rard vip, and olo massa turned a summerset over into de swamp; and dar he was, wid his two Ic^^s standing in de air, and his head sticking in de mud. Golly, how de niggers did larf. {During this, Huuricaxe has been icorkinrj himself into a tremendo7is rage, and now flings his cane at Wool, icho dodges it, and runs off J.. 1 e. — CAnxoLA has icithheld the major, laughing. — Wool re-enters.'} Yes, I believe you ! {Disappears, l. 1 e.) Hur. The black scoundrel ! to dare to laugh at me ! The — Egad, I don't wonder at it; for there I lay, like a shipwrecked tea-table. Though if I didn't feel so happy I'd murder the ras- cal, demme. Cap. And are you really happy, gov. ? Hur. Don't you think I ought to be, finding two lost relations at once? Thougl^how the devil I stumbled over the boy Her- bert is a mystery to me. Cap. Ah, nunkey, but for him you might not have had the pleasure of falling in with me. Hur. Pleasure, madcap ! Do you really think it fs a pleasure to me? Cap. Why, haven't I kept vou all alive since I have been here ? Hur. By the Lord ! 3'-ou've turned everything topsyturvy ; and as to Mrs. Condiment, hang me if I think she knows whether she stands on her head or her heels. But I say, Cap, do you'^ know these friends that Herbert has gone to visit ? Who are they ? Cap. A poor widow and her son, w^ho, when his mother died, reared him as their own. Hur. Noble w^oman ! I'll make her fortune for her ; and so I told Herbert to say to her. Cap. Oh, what a capital old gov. you are; and what are you going to do for rac? Hur. Send you to a lunatic asylum; but as for that poor noble-heavted widow, I'll — I'll — Cap. Marry her yourself, won't you, nunkey? Ha! ha! ha! Hur. Perhaps I will, if it's only to keep you out of trouble anrj lu order, you baggage you. But how was it that Herbert never mentioned the name of these good people? Cap. I say, gov., w'ait till he comes back, and then see how long he will talk of them Avithont mentioning their names. Hur. So I will, Cap ; so I will, no matter what the name may be. She's a good woman ; and, demme, I'll make her happy, and place her above want. Cap. Over my head; ch, nunkey? Ha, ha, ha I Hur. Silence, you monkey, or I'll go and propose to her at once. Cap, Ha! ha! ha! Scene 2.] the hidden hand. 13 Hur. Zounds and the devil ! I'll — I'll — Here, Wool I (Wool enters, hastily, l. 1 e. — Huericaxe makes a blow at Mm with his cane, ichich he avoids, and crosses to c. — IlURRICA^'^ goes L.) Go to the devil, you black imp ! [Exit, in rage, l. 1 e. Wool. After you, massa. C^r^. Ha ! ha ! a narrow escape, Wool. Wool. Yes, I believe you. , [Exit, L. 1 E. Caj). What a fiery old i^ov. he is, to be sure ; but I'll tamo him down, I warrant. There's no fires or musses, as we used to have in Rag Alley. But about that trap-door, if I don't find out the mystery about it, if there is one, you can call me a spooney. [Exit l. 1 e. SCENE 2. — Log kitchan in the old inn. — A large fireplace, with fire, L. c. — Boor inftat, r., icith hai across it. — Whole appear- ance of scene dilapiidated. — Large oak table r. c., with four chairs. — Feictcr mugs, stone bottles, &c., on table. — Headlong Hal, Stealthy Steve, and Demon Dick discovered at table, •^ Bold music. Hal. I wish the captain would come. Where can he have got to ? Steve. Oh, he's gone to hear the people talk, and fiind out what they say of him. Hal. I shouldn't think it would require much seeking that. But what's the matter with Dick? Steve. He's in a bad humor to-night. Hal. Was he ever in a good one? (Whistle heard. — All start.) But hush! the captain! (3Iusic. — Goes to door and opens it. — Black Don^vld appears disguised as a Quaker. — Men all start back astonished. — Donald enters, throws himself into a chair, and laughs.) Hal. Captain, I don't know what you think of it, but I think it's just as churlish to lau2,h alone as to get drunk in solitude. Donald (c.) Oh, you shall laugh too, lads; listen. In this meek disguise I went peddling to-day. Hal (r.) Ay, we know, but have a care you don't go once too often. Eon. I have been for the last time, and where think you I sought for trade? Why, in the very paws of the lion. In a word, I sold cigars and smoking caps to the judge, and gold spectacles. (Bises.) Hal and company. No ! Don. Yes! Hal and company. Ha! ha! ha! Don. Ay, and to the sheriff, John Eeefe, I ofifered a pair of Bteel handcufis to use if ever he caught that grand rascal. Black Donald. Hal. And what said he ? Don. That he had some hopes of taking the rascal at last. I 3 14 THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT ll told him it would be a grent day for Alleghany, aud when he was hanged I would endeavor to be present myself. *' Do," said he. I thought, however, it was time to be off, and said, " thee had better let me sell thee these handcuffs, John. I will show tliee their beautiful machinery; hold out thy wrists, John." Hal. And did he? Do7i. By the Lord he did ! In an instant I snapped them on him, and shouting my name, disappeared before he had col- lected his faculties and discovered his position. Hal and company. Ha! ha! ha! (Whistle heard. — AUpaiise.) Don. (crosses to u. of table and sits). Hush ! Devil burn ye ! There's some one coming. (Goes to door. — Gives signal. — It is answered idUiout.) It is Lc Noir, who was to meet me here to-night on important business. Hal. The colonel ! (Music. — Donald opens door, r. h. f.) Enter L|: Noik, at door, disguised in cloak. Le Noir. Donald, I would have a word with you. (Sits l. of table.) Don. At your command, colonel. Leave us, fellows. (Hal, Steve, and Dick, exit through door k. 1 e.) You seem dis- turbed, colonel. (Sits, n.) Le N. Ay, man, I am disturbed. I'm suffering from the pangs of remorse. • Don. Remorse! Ha! ha! ha! Le N. Not for those acts of self-preservation which fanatics , would call crimes, but in every vein of my soul I repent not having silenced in the Hidden House that old woman aud the child thirteen years ago. Don. I told you at the time it were better to send them on a longer journey. We live to kill, say the butchers ; so do ice. The world Avas made for the strong and cunning. Le N. Donald, that child has returned to the neighborhood. Don. The devil she has ! Le N. Her name is Capitola. She's the living image of her mother. What proofs may be in old Warfield's possession I know not. All that I have discovered is that old Nancy Grew- ell returned ; that the night before she died she sent for Major Warfield, had a long interview Avith him, and that shortly af- terwards he travelled to the North aud brought home this girl. Donald, this is no time for weakness; this girl, this Capitola, JIUST DIE ! Don. That's so, colonel. It's a pity it was not done thirteen years ago. It's easier to pinch a baby's nose than to stifle a young girl's shrieks and cries. Lc'N. I know there will be additional risks; but hark ye I the day you bring me proof that Capitola Le Noir is dead, one thousand dollars is yours. Don. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Capitola Le Noir is the heiress to half a million of dollars, and 5'ou offer me, to put her out of the way, one thousand dollars ! Ha! ha! hal SCEXE 3.] THE HIDDEN HAND. TS Le N. Villain ! the government does not value your whole carcass at more than I offer for the temporary use of your hands. Don. No ill names, your honor. They are like kicking guns, apt to recoil. Le N. You forget you are in my power. Don. I remember that you are in mine, for the day that Black Donald stands at the bar, Col. Le Noir will certainly be beside him. Le JSf, (rises, goes down l.) Enough I Do you take me for one of your pals? ' Doji. (k., rises). No ! my pals are too poor to hire their work done ; but then they are brave enough to do it themselves. In one word, I demand ten thousand dollars. Five thousand in advance, the remainder when the deed's done. Le N. Extortion ! Don. If you don't like the terms, you need not employ me. Le N. You take advantage of my necessities. Don. Not at all. But I'm tired of this sort of life, and wish to retire from active business. I want to emigrate, settle, marry, get elected to Congress, perhaps to the White House. Ten thousand dollars will give me a fair start. Many a suc- cessful politician, as your honor knows, has started on less capital than that. Le N. {aside). He has me in his power. Why should I hesi- tate ? (Aloud) Well, I agree to the terms ; meet me here to- morrow evening and the money shall be yours. In the mean time, be careful ; a mistake might be fatal. Don. Oh, you can trust me. Le N. Good-night then, and remember to-morrow. {Music, hold.) lExit D. F. Don. Ha! ha! ha! Why does that man think it needful to look so villauous ? If I were to go about in such a bandit-like dress as that, every child I met would take mo for what I am. 'Tis strange this girl should have returned. Gad! I'll first see what sort of a thing it is. I must get sight of her. But how? I have it! - Lucky thought! Truly, Donald, thou hast enacted so many parts, it woijld be hard if thou canst not successfully assume one now. Ho, there, lads ! lads ! ILxit k. u. e. SCENE 3. — A plain Jdtchen in the home of Marah liocJce. — Windoio in flat, icith plain curtains. — Music, ^^ The Heart Bowed Down, etc." Enter MaPwVH, k. 1 e., slowly, towards the end of music, Marah. There ; supper is ready and my dear son Traverse mil soon be home to enjoy it. Ah, hard, hard is the fate which compels him to toil, early and late, for my support! Yet how willingly he does it! Well, w^ell, I must not com- plain ; it is the will of Providence, and it were impious in ine to murmur. 16 THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT II. Enter Traverse, l. 1 e. {Goes to Marah and kisses her.') Traverse. Mother, dear mother ! Mar. Will you never have outgrown your babyhood? Tra. Yes, dear mother, in everything: but the privilct^P of loving you. That I shall never outgrow {Kisses). Mother, I shall not be wanted any longer at the store. Mr. Specie'? man has recovered his health and returued to his work. Mar. So they have discharged j'ou? Tva. Yes ! But how fortu^nate ! for I shall be able, to-mor- row, to do all the little. odd jobs about the garden that have been waiting for me so long, and tlien on Monday I shall get more work. Mar. I wish I were sure of it. Tra. What do you think, mother, has become of Herbert, my foster-brother? Mar. I dread to conjecture. It is now nearly three years since we have heard from him. Tra. Do you think he has been lost at sea? Mar. No! I feel assured it is not so. Do you know, Traverse, that for the past three nights I have dreamt of him; and if I were at all superstitious I should say that his spirit was hover- ing near me now. Tra. Then he will come back. Ha ! what step is that? Herbert (Outside, l. 1 e). Traverse! Mother! Tra. 'Tis Herbert! 'Tis he, mother ! Enter Herbert hastily, l. 1 e. ' Her. Traverse ! (Shakes hands icith him, and crosses to c.) Mother! (Embraces her.) Tra. O Herbert, I am so glad to see you. Her. Brother, I have come to repay all your acts of kindness to me. But, mother, you do not welcome me ! Mar. (embracing hiiii). My son! my sailor boy! it's my own blood. Welcome back again. You have travelled far; I will get supper for you directly. Her. Do not trouble yourself; I took supper three miles back, where the stage stopped. Mar. Why, Herbert, have you been s.o silent? For three years we have not received one line from you. Her. And can you think I had forgotten you? No, no ! My heart yearned too fondly for the protectors of my youth. In each port that our ship has stopped have I mailed remembrances to you. Mar. I believe thee, Herbert; and 'twas the thought of thy rtrong affection which made me fear that death had taken thee for its victim. But thou art here now, and I am happy once again. Her. And now let me tell you the good news I have for you. 31ar. Oh, tell it, tell it ! Have you got a ship of your own, Herbert? Scene 3.] t«e niDDi^x haxb. 17 Her Better than that. Yoii know that I hnd a rich uncle whom I had never seen, because, from the time of my dear mother's marriage to lier death, she and her brother had been estranged from cacli other? Ma)\ {rov fused). Yes, yes ! I have heard so ; but your mother and m3'.self never alhided to the subject. Her. Exactly! Well, when I came on shore, who should I meet at the hotel but this rich imcle! He knew me at once, received me with much kindness, and has oflcred me a home beneath his roof. Are you not glad at my good fortune? Tra. Oh, yes ! indeed we are. Herbert, I give you joy. Her. I knew you'd be glad for me; but now I want you to be glad yourselves. AVhen I told him what friends you had been to me — Mar. {Jiastilfj). Oh, no! You did not — you did not men- tion us to him ? Tra. (crosses to c.) Why, mother! Why should I not? Was there anything wrong in that? Mar. No, no! certainly not! I forgot — I — only that we are poor, and should not be forced upon the attention of the rich. Well, Herbert, as you Avere saying a':out my — Major WarfiekVs kindness — go on. (Crosses to c.) Her. When I told him how kind you had been to me, he was moved to tears. I saw the teardrops glistening in his eye, as he walked the floor, mutteiing to himself, — poor woman, — good woman, — excellent woman. 3Iar. Go on I What more did he say? Her. That all that he could do for you was but a sacred debt he owed you, and that, in fact, he would compensate for the past by doing you and yours full justice. 3Iar. He acknowledged it! Thank Heaven ! thnnk Heaven! Tra. Mother, what is the meaning of this? Tell us what it is. 3far. I am so happy at last I After eighteen 5-ears of patient hoping against hope ! Oh, I shall go mad w.ith joy ! But tell me, Herbert, are you sure that he — that Z^lajor Vv^'artield — knew who we were? Her. I'-sl I told him all about you, — your troubles, your disinterestedness, and all your history ever since I knew you. 3Iar. Then 5^ou are sure lie knew who he was talking about? Her. Of course he did. 3Iar. Did he allude to any previous acquaintance with us? Her. No, mother, except that he bade me hasten to you and make you glad with his message, and to return as quick as possible, and let him know whether you would accept his offers. Mar. Accept them ! Oh, yes, yes ! I have waited for them for years. Oh, children, you gaze upon me as if you thought me mad. I am not so, nor can I now explain myself; but you will know all soon. Go, then, dear Herbert, tell liim I accept 18 THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT IL with joy his offer, for the sake of Traverse. My child, —oh, joj I — the hour loug looked for has come at last. {Crosses c.) Providence, how bountiful are thy ways ! My heart is too full! Tears, come to my aid! In the solitude of my chamber let me pour out my thanks to that benignant Power that watches over the shorn lamb. lExit, hastily, r. 1 e. Tray. What can be the meaning of this, Herbert? I can't understand it. Her. But I can, Traverse. Poverty is hard to bear, and the hope that for your sake her trials are over, has overjoyed her. I shall away at once. Go you to your mother; soothe her till I return, to ccnvey her to that home she so much deserves, and shall hereafter enjoy. [^Shakes hands with Traverse, exit l. 1 e. [Traverse exit, r. 1 e. SCENE 4. — The Plantation at Hurricane Hall. Tobacco groio- ing at back, icith negroes at icork. A row of large trees on l. n. side. Fountain r. 2. e., and large stone basin to receive the icater. A low hedge runs across stage, at back, icith opening c. Tliex>ortico of the house, on steps is r. 3 & 4 e. A large bin, supposed to contain meal, &c., r. 2 e. Music, ^^ My Old Ken- tucky Home." Enter Mrs. CoxDniEXT, from house, r. n. 3Irs. C. Here, "Wool, — Wool! . Where can that lazy nigger be? it's lucky for him the major is not by. Wool {entering l. u. e.) Here I is, Mrs. Cardimcns, — what you want ? 3Irs. C. Where's the major, Wool ? Wool. Down at de stable, blowing Jim up like de debbil, kase he gib him a lame horse. He shied the curricomb at ray head ; but I tuk care to dodge, and make myself scarse, kase I knows de massa. Yes, I believe you. Mrs. C. And where's Miss Black? Wool. Oh, she's down dar, too; dar she stands, larfin at de major. I larf, too ; dat's what brought de curricomb arter me. Mrs. C. Well. Wool, see a good fire made in the trap cham- ber. Miss Black will occupy ihat for the future. Wool. Say, missus, dar's a sailor chap out at de gate says he's got some magniferous goods he wants to show de ladies ob de house. Mrs. C. A sailor? "well, fetch him here, Wool. Wool. Just so, missus. ' \_Exit, l. u. e. Mrs. C. A sailor, with foreign goods for sale. I'm afraid Le's one of those smugglers I've heard tell of. However, there can be no harm in looking at his goods. {Be-enter Wool, followed by Black Donald, disguised as a sailor, icith a large pack of silks, &c., on his back. He takes off hat and bows. Music, ''Life on the Ocean Wave.") Don. (c.) Servant, madam. I've brought a few goods, con- gCENE 4.] THE HIDDEN HAND. 19 sisting of rich China silks, purchased in Shanghai, which I'll sell cheap. Wool. (l. n.) Shanghai! dats dc place war our olc roostei come from. J)on. Perhaps you've some young ladies in the fleet- I've goods as ■will rig 'em out as gay as a clipper. 3Irs. C. (n. ii.) Wool, call the house servants; perhaps they would like to buy something. Wool, (aside) "Ole missus wants to get de pick. If he's got any cotton bandannas, I'll take one or two myself. Yah ! yah! X believe you. (Exit into the Jiouse, n. n. Donald opens the pack and displays silks, cOc. Mrs. C. f<jlloKs Wool up, then advances l.) Mrs. C. I didn't wish to inquire before the servants; but I'm afraid, my good man, you risk your liberty in an unlawful trade. Don. On my soul, ma'am, these things arc honestly come by, and you have no right to doubt me. Mrs. C. I know I haven't ; but did these goods pass through the custom house ? Don. Tliat's not a fair question, ma'am. Mrs. C. I do not know whether smuggling is right or wrong ; but I do not feci at lii)erty to purchas^e goods of a man who risks his life in an unlawful traffic. ^ Don. (c.) AVhy, Lor bless you, ma'am, if wc risks oirr lives it's our own business, and if you've no scruples on your ac- count, you needn't have any on ours. Re-enter Wool, loith all the servants, male and female. Wool. Come along, boys and gals, dare's de smuggler dat hab dc goods. Mrs. C. {to them, l.) You may look at these things, but you must not purchase them. Wool, (ii.) Dar goes my bandannas. Enter Capitola, in ridinrj-dress, hastily, L. u. e., and advances l. Cap. Hollo ! what queer fish have you picked up here? Mrs. C. A sailor, my dear, with foreign goods for sale. Cap. A sailor? Isn't he a smuggler? Wool, 'l believe you. 3Irs. C. (l. c.) Indeed, my dear, I'm afraid he's not what ha seems. Cap. Ifhe's a bold buccaneer, I want to talk to him. Say, you sir, show me your goods ; I'm very fond of sailors. ( Crosses to c.) Don. (k. c.) Ay, you would 'give us poor follows a chance to turn an honest penny. (Shows silk.) Tiiere's a genuine China silk. I bought it myself, on my last cruise, in the streets of Shangliai. }VooL Yes, miss, Shanghai; dat's de place where dc roosters come from. 20 TlIE inDDEN HAIO). [ACT II. Cap. Wool ! {Baises whip.') Wool. I's done. Don. (sJioicina siUi). This is an article of great value. Look, now beautiful. "^ And this (sJioir^s lohite shawrj cannot be pur- chased but in Cashmere, -where the article is made. Wool. You see dat arr Cashncer shawl? It's made out of iii^2:ers' wool, dyed white. Cap. Wool ! Pomp, get the horsewhip. (Po:mp is going l.) Wool. Stop, stop dare, Pomp; I's done. Cap. Look here, my brave buccaneer, I've been the rounds. Mrs. Condiment, if you want to buy that India silk ycu are looking at so lovingly, you may do it with a safe conscience. I know all about thaso foreign goods ; they arc manufactured in the North, and sent through the country by agents, who dress and talk like sailors, because they know well enough fine ladies will buy quicker and pay more if they onl}'^ fancy they are cheating Uncle Sam in buying from a smuggler at half price. JUrs. C. So, then, you are not a smuggler, after all. Don. You know, ma'am, I told you you were accusing me wrongfully. Cap. There, what did I tell you? Mrs. C. Well, lie knows if he wanted to pass himself off for a smuggler, it didn't take licre. TFooL Dat's a fac ; couldn't fool us. Yah ! yah ! C'aj9. Wool! Well, my good fellow, as it is getting late .in the morning we will make some purchases ; and after breakfast you can pursue your journey. Don. Thank you kindly, miss ; but I must be far on my jour- ney to-night. * Mrs. C. But, my good man, you do not know the danger you run by travelling'^at night with that valuable pack of goods. If you should encounter Black Donald — Caj). Black Donald, who is he? and why is he called Black Donald? Mrs. C. For his black deeds, black soul; his black hair and beard. Wool. Yes, dat's so. His har is four yards long; he stands fourty feet high, and eats two oxen and a little chicken, cbery day, for his fodder. Cap. And I suppose drinks a barrel of whiskey at one gulp, to wash it down. Wool. I believe you. Don. (to I\Ius. C") Have you ever met the wretch, ma'am? Mrs. C. Oh ! I — I should drop down dead with terror ! Wool. I reckon dis uigger'd*be 'mong de missiu, 'bout dat time, too. Don. (to Cap.) What think you of this outlaw, young lady? Cap. I like him. I like men whose names strike terror into the hearts of the commonplace people. Wool. Oh, de Lord! Scene 1.] the ihddei^ uasd. * 2i Mrs. C. O Miss Black ! Cap. Yes I do, and if he were only as honest as he is trave, I would adore him. If tliere is one person in the world I wish to see, it is Black Donald. Wool. Not now, Miss Catapiller. Oh, Lord a marcy ! Don. And do you know Avhat happened to the rash girl that wished to see his satanic majesty ? Cap. No! What did? Bon. She saw him. Wool. De devil she did ! Cap. Oh, if that's all, I say it, and if wishing will bring the sight of this notorious outlaw, I wish it. I wish to see Black Donald. (^1 la Diahle). Don. Behold him ! {Tlirows off cap, and hanclJcerchief which has concealed his beard. — Hurried music. — Negroes scream, and rush off at different entrances. —Mrs. Conddient runs into house. — Wool disappears- in the meal-bin, k. — Capitola suddenly springs upon his back, clinging to him. — He slips off jacket and cap, and runs to r. 1 e. — Is met by negro with gun, ivho shnnks from him. — Goes to l. 1 e. — Is met by another negro with gun, &c. — Goes ^0 L 2 E., and meets Hukricane, ichom he knocks into fountain, — Negroes all re-enter, r. andi.., and rush about in con- fusion. — Wool rises in meal-bin, covered with mcal^ and his mouth filled with it,-which he scatters about. — Capitola kiughs, as the drop descends.') End of Act II. ACT III. SCENE 1. — Tlie plantation, as in Act U., Scene i. — MusiCy "A Little More Cider." Enter Hurricane and Herbert, from house^ r. Hur. And so, Herbert, the poor woman was delighted with the prospect of better times. And the boy, Herbert ! the boy ! Her. Oh, sir, delighted for himself, but still more for his mother. Her joy was such as to astonish and alarm me. Be- fore that I had thought Marah Rocke was a proud woman. Hur. (astounded). Thought who was a proud woman? Her. Marah Kocke. Hur. {in great rage). Young man! did you know the shame you dashed in my face with the name of that woman? Her. She is the best and dearest of her sex. Hur. Best and dearest! idiot! This, then, is why yon con« 22 THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT III. cealedlier name from me until you had won my promise to aid her.; but see, sir, I break it thus {snaps his cane in two), and when you can unite those ends, and make them bear green leaves again, then you can reconcile Ira Warfield to Marah Kocke. Her. What is the cause of this emotion, sir? Hur. Emotion ! Demme, sir, am I a man to give way to emotion? Mind what you say, sir. Go, — go back to that woman and tell her, as she values her life, never to utter or even think my name again. Her. Sir, you cannot mean it. And as for Mrs. Eocke, as a good woman, I feel it my duty to uphold her name and repu- tation. Hur. Good ! Ugh ! Ugh ! But I'll command myself; I'll not give way again. Good! Ha! ha! I see now, boy, that you are a dupe. But tell me, sir, do you know anything of this woman's former life ? Her. Nothing, sir; but I would stake my salvation on her integrity. Hur. Then you'd lose it, lad, that's all. But listen: at the ripe age of forty-five I succeeded in achieving the greatest folly in my life. I fell in love with and married a girl of sixteen, — married her secretly for fear of the ridicule of my brother ofli- cers, -•put her in a snug cabin in the woods, and visited her by stealth ; but I was watched, my hidden treasure was Sis- covered, demme. I cannot tell this story in detail. One night I came home late and quite unexpectedly, and found a man in my wife's cabin. I broke the man's head, sir, tore the woman from my heart. That man was Gabriel Le Noii', and the woman was Marali Rocke. (Crosses k.) Her. Surely, sir, there must have been some mistake. Hur. Mistake ! Demme, sir, do you think I couldn't believe my own eyes? But never let me see her; never let her hope for assistance from me; and, boy, if you value my friendship — Ugh ! Tell her that Ira Warfield will carry these sentiments to his grave. (Hurries off, n. 1 e.) Her. Strange, eventful history. Poor Marah! Oh, I will not believe this of her. There has been foul wrong done to her, and though I waste energy and life in the pursuit, I'll prove to this stubborn man that Marah Rocke is not the out- cast he would make her. [Exit l. 1 e. Enter "Wool, Pit-a-Pat, and Po:mp, from house. Wool. Come along, Pomp ! mas'rgone oflf, and Miss Catapiller out riding. Oh de Lord, wont de major be mad when he knows it? I believe you. Pomp. Why, Wool? • Wool. Case he forbid her going out alone, she's such a har- um-scarum critter, and he's afraid she'll break her neck some of these days ; so he tells all de boys not to saddle de pony for her. Scene 1.] the hidden haxd. 23 Pomp. And "wliat did she Scay to dat? Wool. Golly! she didn't say nufliii, but just harnessed ^e pony herself; and raouutin' him, told us to give her compli- ments to the governor, and say she'd be home when she got back. Yah! 3-ah! Pomp. And is you gwan to tell him, "Wool? Wool. I radertiuk not, for ole massa swear dat he skin me alive if I let her go ; and dis chile wouldn't look well with his hide off. But look here, Pomp, can't you bring out de ole banjo and gib us a tune, now? Pomp. Yah! yah! Now you talks. Golly! dats my piana. Wool. Fetch him. Pomp. (Exit Pomp, u. e. k.) 1 lubs de banjo better dan anything on earth. Pit. {down close to him, n.) 'Cept me. Wool. Wool. Go way, gal, you knows I lub you, but den — Pit. Den what. Wool? Wool. I lubs de banjo better. • Pit. Ugh ! You ugly nigger ! (Qoes up.) Wool. 1 believe you. I "know Pse ugly. Don't kotch me dar, gal. Yah ! yah ! yah ! Pe-enter Pomp, followed hy male and female darkies, n. u. e. Pomp. Here we is, Wool. Wool. Dat's it. Kow den, Pomp, squat and tune hor up. (So19^ and chorus.) Enter Capitola, l. v. e. Capitola, Now, then, what's going on here, eh? Wool, is the major in the house? Wool. I radcr tink not. Miss Catapiller. Massa went off, jest now, in a debil of a rage. Golly, you'd better not get in der way just now. Cap. He's angry, is he ? then I shall have a chance to aston- ish the old dragon. I like that old man ; but he must be made to know his place. Wool (aside). Won't der be an explosion when dem two meet? (Aloud) Miss Catapiller, won't you oblige de darkies, here, by singing dat ar pretty song I heard you warble toder day. You see, I's got an affection of de busum, and dat ar 'peals to my feelings so. Cap. Sing it ; to be sure I will, Wool ; but you must all join In the chorus ; and as music hath charms to sooth the savage breast, who knows but it may tame the major down. (Song and chorus, — " Capitola." — Breakdown by darkies.) Hur. (without, r.) Wool, go and call Miss Black to me ! Wool. Oh, de Lord ! scatter, boys and gals ! (Darkies run 0/, R. ancZ L. u. E.) Cap. Pll be off, too. Wool; tell the major I am gone out to grass. Now I'll teach him a lesson he'll not readily forget. {^Exit L. u. E. 34 THE HIDDEN HAlO). [ACT III. IVool. Here's a pretty fix dis nigger's In. • Enter Hureicaxe, r. 1 e. Muj^. Send Miss Black to mc ! Rascal ! do you hear me ? Wool (hesitating). Radcr bard ob liearln', to-day, mas'r. Har. Deramc, why dou't you move, you villain! Wool. De Lord help dis chile, now! Massa major, I's berry sorry to say, I couldn't do it. liar. Wiiat ! mutiny in the camp ! What do you mean, you devil's imp? Wool. 'Kasc Miss Catapiller's gone out on de pony. Iliir. (amazed). No! Wool. Yes, I believe you. Har. And she has dared to disobey my orders. And you, you infernal rascal 1 did I not tell you not to let her have any horse fi'om the stable ? Wool. I disremember dat, massa. Hur. You do, en? But I remember that I promised to skin you alive if you did so ; and dcmme if I don't do it ! (Prepares.') Wool. O massa! I remember dat, (Aside) Only tink of dis nigger goin' widgut his skin ! Don't, massa major, don't ! Hur. "Come here, j^ou black vagabond ! I'll teach j'ou to dis- obey orders. (Makes a dash at Wool, zoho dodges, and crosses to R. -r- HuiiRiC-\Js^E chases him round to l.) E)iter Capitola, l. u. e., icho comes between them. Cap. Hollo! governor; wliat's the matter? Wool. Tank de Lord ! lExit, l. 1 e. Cap. Oh ! my, what a look ! Now I've no doubt you think to frighten somebody. You're mistaken, governor. Hur. ]\Iiss, how dare you have the impudence, the assur-' ance, the brass, the effi-ontery to speak to me I Cap. Well, I declare ! Hur. Young woman! tell me instantly, and without prevari- cation — demme, where have you been? Cap. Going to and fro upon the earth, with the pony under me. Hur. Flames and fires! this is no answer! (Walks, in rage.) Cap. Look here, uncle, if you go on in that way you'll have a fit presently. Hur. Where the devil have you been ? Cap. Across the river, through the woods, and back again. Hur. And didn't I forbid you to do that, minion? How dare you disobey my orders ! Do you know the jeopardy you placed yourself in? — you, the creature of my bounty ! — the miserable little vagrant, that I picked out of the streets, and tried to make a lady ol"! You should have locked yourself in your room, you beggar ! — you street boot-black ! ere you disobeyed your bene- factor ! — a man of my age, character, and position, and the master of this house 1 Scene 2.] the hidden hand. 25 Cap. Undo, you rescued mo from misery, perhaps from deaiii; you have placed mo in a home of abundance, honor^ and security. For all this, if \ were not grateful, I should de- serve no less th.ivi death. But, uncle, there is a sin worse than this. It is to put a helpless fellow-creature under heavy obli- gations, and then treat them with undeserved contempt and cruel unkindness. Farewell! {Goimj l. ii.) Hur. Stop, miss! Where arc you going? Cap. P.ack to the home you rescued me Trcm. Freedom and peace is sweeter than wealth with misery. Ilur. But, Capitola — I didn't mean — it was all for your own good. I — I — Cap. I won't be treated with kicks and promises at the same tim3. I'm not a cur pup, to be fed on roast beef and beaten with the bones. Such abuse as you have heaped upon me I never heard before, not even in Rag Alley. Ilur. Zounds! will you never forget Kag Allfty? Cap. I won't ; I'll go back there. Hur. Demme, I wont let j'ou ! Cap. Then I'll have you up before the nearest magistrate, and make you show by what right you detain me here. liar. Whew! Now, my dear niece; I only meant to speak for your good. Cap. {bnitatinrj his previous manner). Then how dare you have titb brass, the impudence, the assurance, the copper, to talk to me in the manner vou did? Har. AVhat! Cap. Old gentleman, answer me ! Ilur. Demme, is the girl crazy? Cap. Didn't you know, you frantic old veteran, the jeopardy you placed yourself in, by getting up steam in that manner. You dishonored old man, you should have put your head in a basket, you headstrong, desperate, reckless old invalid, ere you allowed yourself to vilify me, a young lady of character, position, and the mistress of this house. Hem! demme ! \^Exit, strutting, r. 1 e. Ilur. Oh, oh! Ah! Ha, ha! I like this. She's showing mc off. Thank you, miss ; I owe you one. Ha, ha, ha ! [_Exit into house, Vi. -a. SCENE 2. — TIic apartment ofMarah Hocke, as before. — MusiCf " The heart bowed dozen." Enter Marah, k. 1 e., reading a letter. 3Iar. (reads.) ''My dearest and best Mrs. Iioc7ce,— May Heaven strengthen you to read the few bitter lines I have to write. Major Warficld, upon hearing your name, xcUhdrew all his promises. He told me your early history; yet I believe you as pure as an an- gel. Trust in Heaven and believe in the earnest respect and affec- iion of your grateful and attached son. ^Herbert Grayson." 3 26 THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT 111, « Trust ill Heaven!" Aye! It has given me Strength to bear iU'ith rcijignation greater trials tJian this, and shall I now re- pine? ^o! Courage, poor licart! Disappointment may do much ; bur, for the sake of my dear son, I will strive to bear with it. Enter Traverse, l. 1 e. • Tra. Dear mother, in tears! What is the meaning of this? Mar. Traverse, misfortunes never come singly. Major War- Cold has regretted his promise to aid us. 7Va. Tlien let it go, dear mother. If we arc poor, wo can still liold up our heads in honor. But, mother, tell mc of my father. Mar. Not now, Traverse. In time you will know all. But 6CC ! I will read the doctor's letter. {Reads) '' Dear Madam, — M'j daughter Clara, having just returned from school, to pursue her studies at hmie, needs a companion. If you idll accept the position, Iicill make the terms such as shall reconcile you to your change. Yours truly, W. Day." Tra. O mother, of course you'll go? Mar. I do not know. Traverse dear. I shall weigh over this matter to-night, and sleep on it; and He to whom even the fall of a sparrow is not indifferent, will in his supreme wisdom guide me. {She embraces Traverse, and exits r. 1 e.) Music " You'll Remember 3Ie." PF. • 7)-a. AVise, dear, little mother! IIow my heart bleeds tO'See her grief. I trust she will accept this ofler; 'tis for her good I am certain. And for myself, soon, with perseverance and in- dustry, shall I be in a position to place her above the reach of want. Sweet be your dreams, good mother. Good night ! good night ! {Exits, l. 1 e. — Music till change. — Lights down.) SCENE 3. — An old oaken chamber. — Latticed loindoics, n. and L. E., ivilh heavy curtains to each. — Old-fashioned fireplace and mantelshelf, with clock, c. — Hearth-rug, icith trap -under ity in front of the fire. .— Bed, l. h., idth curtains. — Bureau, l. 2 •E..,\cilh toilet glass, tablQ, c, toith supper on trgy. — Bottld of brandy and glass. — Tormentors on r. and L. — Stage dark. — Enter Mrs. CoxDniEXT, tcith two lighted candles, r. n. d. 1 e. — She places them on table. — Capitola follows on and crosses to L. — Wool, runs on as if frightened. — ZZe carries a basket of uood to kindle fire, c. Mrs. C. Now, Wool, build a fire on the hearth. It will make the old room more cheerful. Wool. Dar' say it will, missus ; but you couldn't kotcli dia chile sleepin' in it. {Qoes up and lights fire.) Mrs. C. Don't be a fool, Wool. Cap. Why, what can there be to fear? Wool. Ghosts and spirits I BcEXE 3. J THE HIDDEN HAND. 27 Cap. Oh, if tli.at's fill! I've had too much to do with evil spirits already to fear them uow. • Wool. Do Lord a marcy ! Mrs. C. Tut, tut, you blockhead ! Yon'U be spoiling the rest of Miss Black, aud, like the Hidden House, she'll begiu to think this is haunted. Cap. Hidden House! — haunted! And have you indeed a haunted house in this country? Oh, that's jolly. Mrs. C. Yes, miss, tiiere is an old-fashioned house, built, 1 don't know how long- ai^o, — the property of the Le Noirs, one of -whom was murdered in it; aud ever since it has been said to be liauntcd. Wool. Dat's so ; I can swar to dat. Cap. Have you ever seen anything to warrant these sus- picions ? Wool I believe you. Ole mas'r was out near dar, hunting, one day, and he say he saw a beautiful fcmale»ghost, aud dat she wanished in a blue flame. And den., one time when I was coming by dar, I looked np, and golly, dar I saw de debbil griunin* at me through the window. • Cap. And did you see nothing else? Wool. Golly I Cat was enough for dis chile. Don't cotch him dar no more, I can tell you. Mrs. C. They do say there's a beautiful young lady come to live there lately. Cap. A young lady ! Then I shall have a neighbor, that's some comfort. 3Irs. C. Yes! A poor young creature who has lost both fiither and mother. 'Tis a terrible dismal place though. I wouldn't live there for all the vrorld. Caj). To-morrow I will ride over to this mysterious house, and pay my devoirs to its new resident. Wool. Don't do dat, Miss Catapiller. I's a gone nigger if you do ; for ole mas'r say I must never lose sight of you when yon are out again. Cap. I suppose he doesn't want me to know there is such a place as the Hidden House. 3Irs. C. I don't know. Miss Black ; but the wild stories told of it ought to be sulliclent to keep you away from it. Cap. That's the very reason I desire to go. Pshaw! do you think I believe the ridiculous stories about this house being haunted? No, jio; and to-morrow I'll prove the fallacy of your fears. There ; leave now. I'm getting sleepy, and I've got a terrible headache. 3Irs. C. Then a good night's rest will refresh you. Come along, Wool. Good-night, Miss Black, and pleasant dreams to you. [Exit, R. II. D. 1 E. Wool. Good-night, Miss Catapiller. Mind you don't slip de bolt of dat ar old tmp, and tumble into de hole under de rug dar. Yah ! yah ! I rader tink when I get into bed, I shall smudder my- 28 THE HIDDEN IIAIO). [ACT IV. self iu dc clothes ; den if any of dc ghosts comes to my bcdsido dey'll li:ib some trouble to get a hold ob dis nigger's ayooI. •Good-uight, Miss Catapilkr; good-night. I's gone. Good night. {After pludcvKj np couraye, exits, u. D. 1 e.) Ca;>. Strange! I can't get this story of the Hidden House out of my thoughts. There has been some great wrong done to some oue, I'll be sworn. Well, well, to-morrow I'll ferret it out, or my name's not Capitola. {Sees supper set.) Ah, my little maid Pit-a-pat has not forgotten ray supper to-night; but I'm not hungry ; but, oh dear, how sleepy I am. I'll go to bed; but lirst let me lock the door. (Lurimj this, she has taken off jewelry , and placed it on bureau. — — Donald comes from behind curtain oficindoiv, R. n. r., down to R. II. door, 1 E., locks it, takes out key, and stands with back to it, so that as she comes towards it sh^ encounters him. — Music, — TAiii.EAU. — She starts back in terror.) Don. You didu't expect mc to-night, did you? Cap. {Has been almost paralyzed ; but after a slight pause re- covers, and seems to have made up her mind what course to pur- sue. With forced calmness.) Well, upon my word, I tliink a gentleman might let a lady know when he intends to pay her a visit at midnight. JJon. Well, upon my word, you arc cool, hang it! I admire you. {Goes up r.) You seem to have made preparation for a supper. I've a capital appetite. Cap. Then sit down and cat. Heaven forbid that I should fail in hospitality. Don. {sits and eats r. of table). And arc you rcallj not afraid of me? I might do you some harm. Cap. But you won't. Don. Why won't I ? Cap. Because it won't pay. Afraid of you? not a bit of it,— I rather like you. Don. {eatinrj). Come, now,*you're running a rig upon a fellow. Cap. No, indeed; don't you remember the day you were here as the pedlar, that I said I liked Black Donald, an:l I wished to see him? Dun. So you did; but I also remember that when yoa thou:rht you had me in your power, you leapt upon my shoul- ders like a catamount and called for help to secure mc. You thirst for my blood, and yet you pretend you like me. Cap. Lor, don't vou know why I did that? Don. Ko. Why? Cap. Because I wanted you to carry rao off. Don. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Well, I declare, I never thought of that. Well then, since you like me so well, come and give me a kiss. Cap. {shuddering). No, no; I won't; not till you've dono your supper, and washed your beard. Don. I sa}', isn't it almost your hour for going to bed? Cap, Of course it li. Scene 3.] the hidden hand. n 29 Don. TVell, what arc you waiting for? Cap. For my coinpauy to go liomc, to be sure. Dun. Meaning mo.''' Caj?. Meaning you « Dun. Oh, don't mind me. Cap. I don't. (Aside) My blood is freezing in my veins. Heaven aid mc, or 1 am lost indeed. Don. Some brandy, if you please. (Has been imtchinff her, and lioUlinfj vp his (jlass makes this excuse to get her near him. — She comes vp to l. of table ami Jills hiirylass.) I say, I've been watching you, my darling. You'd like to get out oi" this room, wouldn't you? You'd like to hand mc over to the Philistines, I know your tricks; so just stop puzzling your head to baffle mc. You arc like the cagcl bird (rises'and shows ken), you can't get out. (Crosses to l.) Cap. (tremblinr/). Have you done your supper? Don. Yes, duck. (»b'Ae moves table towards i:. ii. d.) AVhat arc you going to do? Cap, Clear away the things, and set the room in order. (Places table n. 3 k. — Takes chairs, and fjoes towards Jireplace. — Aside) The trap I the trap! Don. Come, come, haven't you got through yet? Cap. (placinr/ chair on trap). In a nioment. Come, come and sit down, Donald. (She takes the other chair, to sit l. of fireplace, icith face to audience. Donald sits with back to d. and feet on fender). Listen to me, Donald: men call you a man of blood; they say your hands are red and your soul black with crime. Black Donald, they call you ; but you have never yet stained your soul with a crime as black as that which you think of perpetrating this night. Don. Yaw-aw ! It must be near one o'clock, and I am get- ting sleepy. Cap. All your former acts have been tliosc of a bold man, this act would Ijc that of a base one. Don. Take care; no bad names. Y^ou are in my power, and at m}'-" mercy. Cap. Donald, in all your former acts your antagonists were strong men ; but now it is a feeble girl who is op])osed to j'ou ; to destroy her would be an act of baseness to which you never yet descended. Don. Who talks of destruction? I am tired of all this non- sense. I mean to carry you o!f, and there's an end of it. (Bises.) Cap. Stop! Sit down and hear me for just live minutes longer. Don. Very well. ( Turns chair round, and sits facing audience.') Talk on for a few minutes; but if you think to persundo me to leave this room without you, this night, you are widely out of your reckoning, that's all. Cap. Donald, I have jewels here worth several thousand dollars : if you will consent to go I will give them to you, and 3* so THE HIDDEN HANT). [.aJt III. never say one word to-morrow of what has passed here to- niirht. jDo». WIi}', how green YOU must think me I Wljat's to pre- vent mo from possessing myself of your jewels as well as your- self? (About to rise.) Cap. Sit still, the live minutes' grace are not gone yet. Don. (Joolcs at clock). So they are not. Well, I will keep my promise. Cap. Doii.-ild. give up this heinous purpose. Man, for your own sai\C. give it up. L>o}i. Fo7-inysake! Ha I ha! ha! It's for my sake I'm go- ing to cnrry you otf, and make an iionost wife of you. Cap. JMau, have you ever reflected on death ! It might come with sudden and overwhelming power, and hnrl yon to de- stmction; yes, this fi'ame of yours, this glorious iiandiwoVk of th'j Crcntor, might be hurled to swift dvstruction, and the sottl that animates it dcstrof/cd without a nmincnt's warning! Don. Bosh I If yon really think me such a liandsome man, why don't you go at once and say no more a!)oiit it? Cap. Black Donald, will vou leave ray room? Don. No! ' • Cop. ;Man, I will give you one more chance; pity yourself as I pity you, and leave me. Don. Now it's quite likely tliat I will, isn't it? I haven't watched and pUinned for this chance to give it up now that you are in my power; and now, as the five minutes' grace are quite up — {About to rise). Cap. Stop I don't move yet ; before you stir, say " Lord, have mercy on me ! " Dnn. Why should I say that? Cap. Because I do not wish to kill body and soul together; because 1 would not send you praycrless into the presence of your Creator. Don. {.starts vp). You have a revolver, then. Move but a step, ami I throw mjself on you like an avalanche. Cap. 1 have no weapon, — seel {Holds up both hands). . Don. AVliat did you mean, then? Cap. I mean that your peril is not to be escaped. Black Donald, you have not a minute to live ! (Music PP tremido.) Don. Well this. I suppose, is what people call fine acting; but yen musln't think to frighten me. So come, the grace has expired aiui now give me a kiss. Cap. Then let it be the kiss of death; and heaven hare mercy on your soul! {Music, foi'tc. — Doxai.d makes a step ioicdrds her. ~- She places her foot on spring of trap, tohicJi fallSf and he dii^appears xcith a groan.) Cap. O God I he is dashed to pieces! (FaZ^s.— Quick ciiktaix.) End of Act III. Scene 1?| the iiiddes illnd. 81 ACT IV. SCENE 1. — Exterior of the Hidden IToiise, 2 g, cnc* c d-fash' ionod mansion almost buried amontj the trees. — Door, i.. n.^*, — ]]'i)idoio above, c, to become transparent. — Li/jhts 1-4 down. — Sturm — thunder, rain, and lightning. — Music. CapUola (icithont). Whoa, G3'p, my boy! (Storm C07itinues.) Enter CAriTOLA, l. 2 e., in riding-habit, and idth tchip. Whew ! tlicrc's a flash ! Good gracious ! there's the lioiise ! One would tliink that tliis was an cnclianted forest, containiuii- tho castle of the Sleeping Beauty, and I was tlie kniglit destined to deliver her. (Storm continues. — Vivid lightning.) Conlbund it! I slia!! be drenched to the skin. Here goes for the inside. (Knocks.) No response! All is silent as the grave ! Lord ! sup- pose it sliould be liaunted? Pshaw! gliosts or no ghosts, I'm bound to see the inside. (Knocks. — Chains are In-ard to fall inside. — 77ie door opens, and Doiic.vs Knigut appears at it icich lighted lamp.) Vorcas. Who are you? What do j-ou want h.ere? Cap. Can't you sec? I'm a young' woman, and want shelter from the storm. Dor. Wlien people ask l:ivors, they should do it with a civil tongue in their iieads. Cap. Favors! Plague on you, I asked no favors. Every storm-beaten traveller has a right to shelter under the lirst roof that otters. Dor. Who arc you? Cap. Capitola Black, of ITurricanc ITall. Dor. (hastilg). Capitola, did you say ? Capitola? Cap. Yes, Capitola, — you never heard anything against it, did you ? Dor. What brought yon here? Away! Mount your horse and ily while there is yet time. Cap. Not if I know it. Expose myself again to the storm ! Dor. Girl! there are worse tlangers in the world than any to be feared from thunder, lightning, rain, or wind. Cap. Weil, when I meet them it will be time enough to deal with them. Come, come, let me in; don't 3'ou see I'm nearly drenched to the skin? Dor. J t is madness. Yon shall not stay here Cup. But I tell you I will! You arc not the bead of tho family. Dor. Capitola, how long have you lived at IIurrica.uc Hall? Cap. Long enough for everybody to hear of me. Dor. Where did you live before you came there? Ca2). Where I learned to speak tho truth and shame the #cvil. Dor. And to force yourself into people's houses against their will. 32 THE mDDEx ^A^^). [ifcT IV. Cap. Wlicn I learn from the head of the lionsc that I'm un- wcicoine, tlicn I Avill retreat. Where is your master? Dov. I cannot curse you with the curse of granted prayer. Col. Lc Noir is away. (kip. Why do you talk so strangely? Dor.. It is my Avhim. Perliaps my head is light. Cap. I shouhl tliink it was. Well, as the master is away, present me to the mistress. Do)\ There is no mistress here. Cap. Well, then, the young lady, — I mean the ward of Col. Le Noir. Dor. Well, as you seem resolved to stand j'our ground, I suppose we must put up with you. Cap. And my horse. Dor. lie shall be taken care of. Come in. But mind, you must depart early in the morning. Cap. That's as I please. Dor. Perverse to the last. Come in. lExit, d. in P. Cap. Hooray! I've stormed the breach. (Sti/rm). There comes the storm again. Now Gyp, stand you there, there (goes ojf L. 2 v..) under the shelter of this tree, until some one comes to care for you. {Storm.) Aiut this a ripper! (Music. — As she Inrns to go into the house, the -upper wiudoiu becomes illuminated with white fire, and the figure of the Unknown appears at it. In her right hand she carries a lamp, and her left hand is enveloped in black, ichich she holds vp imcarning to Cap-^ lTOL\,ioho starts back alnrmed.) IMercifui i)o\ver.s ! What is that? (Figure disappears.) That spectral ligure, with its Hid' den Hand, seems to warn me airainst cjitcring the house. Have, then, the ghostly traditions of this woriil trutli in them at last? Tsluiw! am I to be frightened by this? — never! That poor lady looked more in sorrow than in anger, aiul who knows but ghosts may be hospitable? So in 1 jto. Neck or nothing ! . ^ lExit d. f. SCENE 2. —An apartment in the Hidden House, 3 G.—An old- fashioned bed, with tapestr;/ curtains at back, c. — Toilet-table and glass, L. 3 e. — Easy-chair, ii. c— Le Noik is discovered seated. Enter Clara Day, l. 1 e. Clara. Col. Lc Noir, you wished to sec me. I am here. Le Koir. JMiss Day, the responsibility of a guardian is al- ways onerous, and his duties not always agreeable, especially when his wardjs the sole heiress to a large propert}', and the object of pursuit of fortune-hunters and schemers. When such is the case, the responsibilities of the guardian are aug- mented a hundred-fold. Cla. Sir, this cannot be so in my case. You have already been advised that I am betrothed to Dr. Kocke, who wiU claim me as his wife upjn the day I shall complete my Lweuty- ^rst year. Scene 2.] ttm hidden haitd. 83 Le K. No more of that! It is my duty to prevent you from . throwing yourself away upon a mere adventurer. To do this I must provide you with a suitable husband. My son, Craven Le Xoir, has long loved and wooed you. I approve of his snit, and, as your guardian, command you to receive him as your destined' husband. Cla. Col. Le Noir, I am but a simple girl; but I understand your purpose. You are tlio fortuue-hunters, — the schemers; Hut I will die ere I will wed with Craven Le Noir. (Crosses toe.) Le K. Die ! Girl, there arc worse things than death in this ?vorld. Cla. I know it ! But few things can be worse than a union with a man I can neither esteem nor endure. Le N. But there are evils, to escape which, a woman would go down on her bended knees to be made the wife of .mch a man. Cla. Infimons ! You slander all womanhood In my person * Le X. The evils to which I allude are a life of dishonor. Cla. This to me, sir? Le N. Ay ! Girl, it is time we understand each other. You are in my power, and I intend to coerce you to my will. I am going now to prepare the marriage license. I shall return by ten to-morrow. I desire that you be ready to accompany us. If you would save your honor, look to it. Let no hope of es- cape dclndc you. The servants are in my pay. Look to it, Clara; for the setting of another sun shall, see my purpose ac-/ complishcd. ' lExit, l. 1 e. Cla. Heaven help me ! What fate is in store for me? Was It for this, then, that they forced me to leave my quiet home? It was for this, then, he insisted on-his legal rights as my guar- disu. O my poor father, little didst thou know the villain thou hadst to deal with! Enter Dorcas Knight, l. 1 e. Dorcas. Here is a young lady from Ilumcane Hall come to f«.^ you, Miss Day. cla. Ileavcu has hoard my prayer ! Let her come in. Enter C-ititola, l. 1 e. Cay. Ju.-'t w>at. I ir tended ; (ci'osses c.) though I must say you have \hx> r:>05t disa<i:recable servants I ever met with. ( To Cla.) : Dor. i^oolish gin ! i wai'ned you for the best. Have you Dofea'i' Cap. N9\si Irarurd the :^carln.<^of the Tro?d. There, now, make yourself scarce; I want to talk to the yorn3 lady. Dor. AVeU, wcL ! You'lx h70 lon« enough to repent tlris. " [Exa L A B. Cap. I shall Hvj nv iry time ".cm^s, ol ^ r-onan. ( To Clj^^Ml ) But really I fear this is an iuirusion ^u my part. Bi THE HIDDEN HAND. [ACT IV. Cla. You arc welcome. You've been exposed to tlio storm ? Cap. Uathew I am Capitola Bhick. I live with m}' uncle, flt Ilnrricane Hall, a tiery old chap, who, I dare say, about this time is raving about his house, simply because, — having heard a beautiful young lady had become a resident of this house, — contrary to his wishes, I have ridden over to see her. But I don't cure a fig for him. If he's master, I'm mistress. Cla. Ah ! You must be very happy. Cap. Lord bless you, why shouldn't I be? I do what I olease. It's true my old governor and I have a sharp fight now and then; but I always get the best of it. But, bless my heart, what's the matter, — you are ill! Can I be of any ser- vice to j'ou? Cla. Oh, indeed you can aid me. Heaven has surely sent you in this, my hour of need. Cap. Tell me how and what I can do for you. Cla. Listen, then. My name is Clara Day. My father died within the past month, and unfortunately appointed Col. Le Noir his executor and my guardian, — a bold, bad man, who, in order to possess himself of my property, wishes to force me into a marriage with his son. Craven Le Noir. For this pur- pose, he compelled me to remove to this Hidden House, — has deprived me of my friends in order the better to carry out his foul designs. Cap. Well, don't you love the fellow? Cla. Love him? Oh, no! My heart and hand was long sincb given to another. Cap. And that other is — Cla. One Dr. Traverse Rocke, a man who is the soul of honor. And now, by threatening me with a fate worse than death. Col. Le Noir woultl force me to marry this Craven Lo Noir. Cap. They would, eh? Then, my dear, I only wish I was in your place. I'd marry Mr. Craven Le Noir, just on purpose to make him know the dificrence between their sovereign lady and Sam the lackey. But as it isn't me, the first thing that suggests itself for you to do is to run away. Cla. That is impossible. The servants are warned, the doors kept fast locked, and I am closely watched. Cap. There is only one plan of escape left then, and that is full of danger. Cla. "Why should I fear danger? What evil can befall me so groat as that which now threatens me? Teach me, dear Cap- itola; I will'be an apt pupil. Cap. First, you must change clothes with me, pull my veil. do^vn closely, and walk boldly out of the house. My servant, Wool, is waiting for me, no doubt, at a respectful distance. You can mount my horse, ride to your friends, and get them to prosecute your guardian lor cruelly and abuse of authority. Cla. But you ! You will remain in the power of those who know neither justice nor mercy. Scene 2.] tiie hidden hand. SA Cap. Oil, never mind mc. Bless their wigs, I should like to see 'era make mc blaucli ! How I shall enjoy tbeir disappoint- ment! Oh, won't it be fan! Cla. Heaven bless 3'ou, dear Cap'itola. Cap. Don't thank me. It's I that should thank you, for af- fording mc such a fine opportunity for a frolic. Bat come ; you'll excuse me, for I'm fagged out, and these clothes are none of the drycst ; the sooner I change them the better for my consti- tution. Cla. Oh, pardon me ! In the contemplation of my own sor- rows, I forgot you had been exposed to the storm so long. In yonder closet a'ou will find clothes of mine. They are sure to fit you. Cap. Oh, never fear mo. I can accommodate my figure to anytliing. It won't be the first time that I've worn clothes that didn't belong to me. Cla. I will leave you now. (Crosses to l.) You must want rest, also. I shall sleep in the room below this. Shoald you need anything, rap on the floor : I shall hear you. Cap. Little fear of my disturbing you. I sleep like a top, I can tell yon. I'll just take a snooze for a couple of hours or so, tlicn come to your room, get you outside of the house, then return, to finish my nap before breakfast. Cla. Heaven bless you, Capitola ! An orphan's prayers be with you ever. (They embrace. — Music.) \_ExU Claua, l. 1 e. Cap. Now, I -wonder what my old governor is about now, I'll wager a sixpence there won't be much peace at the Hall to- night. Well, it can't be helped. I forgot to say a word to Clara about the poor creature I saw at the window. (Yaions.) Now, if this house should be haunted, and that should be one of the citizens of the other world. (Yawns.) Well, I'm not going to be frightened oat of my sleep, ghost or no ghost ; and as that old bed looks very inviting, here goes. Sits on bed,— yawns.) Clara's oft'! What'U they (yawns) do to me? Hal ha! ha! Won't there be fun ! I'll show 'em — (yawns) tricks { — (yawns) learnt in Rag Alley. (Taivns, lies doion, and sleeps. — Music. — Curtain at hack becomes transparent. — The Un- i'nown, clad in ichite, imth lamp in her hand is seen through. — She advances close to bed, raises her hand over C.vtitola ; then disappears and returns on stage, through l. d. f. — She ad- mnccs slowly to toilet-table ; places lamp upon it; sees ring ; takes it up, kisses it afeclionately, and places it in her bosom; then goes slowly to the bedy and bends over CAriTOLA.) Enter Le Noir, l. 1 E., followed by Dorcas. — He starts on seeing the Unknown. leN. (aside to Dorcas). Curses on it, she will discover all. (Music. — Takes off his cloak, and xcith Dorcas advances catt- fioM.j'?/ to the bed. — Throws his cloak over the Unknown, to drown her streams, and bears her off, struggling and screaming, l. 1 e.) 36 TUE niDDiir hand. [Act IV. Cap. {lifter they are of loUh Uxitn-own, l. 1 e., tcaJces, startt tip). Eli,"whar, — save iier! — save her! — ha! ha! ha! Lord, twas only a dream; but, oh, real it seemed to me! (Scream L. II.) What was that? -reality, — then it was no dream. (Scream heard.) There, again! Some deviltry is afoot; let me at ouce to Clara and learn the truth. [Exit, hurriedlij, l. 1 e. SCENE 3. — Exterior of the Hidden House 2 G., as before. Stage (lark. — Door is opened cautiously, and Chssxx, dressed in Capi tola's habit, and carrying a riding-whip, enters from house. Music, pp. Cla. Thank Heaven I am without the walls of this hated mansion ! Oh, may Heaven bless and reward my heroic Capi- tola ! Now for the servant Wool. Should he have quitted his post, — but, no, he dare not lose sight of her. Hist ! hist ! hist ! Enter Wool, quicJdy, l. 2 e. Wool. I'se on hand. Miss Catapiller; j'ou needn't tink dis chile's goin to get his eyelids skinned by losing sight of you. Cla, {in a subdued voice). Where's the pony, Wool? Wool. Down behind de trees, dar. Oh, you does right to keep your face kivered; it's awfnl windy ; I can scarcely keep de hair on my head. (Clara crosses to l.) Which way is you going now, Miss Catapiller? Cla. Towards Tip-Top. Wool. What de mischief is you gwau dar for? (Clara raises , whip to him.) Dar, dar, I'se done; I won't ax you any more questions, not if 3'ou ride to old Nick, or Black Donald, cither. Cla. Now, Wool, remain you here on the watch. Do not follow me. Wool. What, and get my eyelids skinned? Oh, de Lord, dis gal's determined to be the death ob me ! I know it just as well as nuffin at all. I 'clar to man if it aint nuff to make a nigger go heave himself into a grist-mill, and be ground up at ouce. Cla. {as.<i7iming her own voice). Wool, Wool, ride back to Hurricane Hall and tell Major Warfield that Miss Black remains at the Hidden House, in great danger. Haste ! haste ! Good- by, and God speed you ! {Hurnes out, l. 2 E. Wool stands' horrified till she's off, then hurries out). Wool. Dis nigger's dead and buried. Young missus changed from a catapiller to a butterfly. Hallo ! — murder ! — help ! -^ stop de coach ! — stop do bosses ! — ole massa'U kill me if J lose sight of her! Stop her! — stop de debil dat's transinogrifled h^. [Exit after her, crying murder, &c. SCENE 4. —Interior of Eural Chapel. — Small altar, c. — Or* gan music. — A minister discovered, c. — Col. Le Noir on l. — A small number of spectators, v.. and l. Lt Notr I told you, sir, as our bride was an orphan, recently Scene 4.] the hidS en uaitd. S? bcreayed, and still in deep raoarnins, we wished the marriage ceremony to be strictly private; yet here I find a score of peo- ple. How is this? ^, rriest. Sir, these people arc farm-laborers. They can cer- tainly be no interruption to the ceremony. Enter Cn^VE^ Le Nom, R. 1 e., conductinrj CAriTOLA, icJio is dressed in Clara's dress of Scene 2. — She is veiled. — Craven crosses to L. c. Speak, Craven Lc Noir ! TVilt thou have this woman to be thj wedded wife as long as thou both shalt live? Craven. I ^-v WW , , , ^, . r ^^\.^ rriest. And thou, Clara Day, wilt thou have this man for thy wedded husband? Cap- Not if I know it. Le N. What does this mean? Who nre you, girl? Cap. (throics off veil). Capitola Black, your honor's glory! (Courtesies). . « „ ^, . .> Crav. What the foul fiend is the meaning of all this? Cap. (pultinrj thumb to nose). It means that you can't como if it's no go; this chicken won't light; (imts both hands to nose) the fat's in the lire; the cat's out of the bag; the plays over ; the curtain's going to drop : and the principal pertormer, that's me, is about to be called out, amid the applause of the audience. Crav. S'death ! We are foiled ! „ , , Cao. A precious pair of knaves you'd be, if you had sense enough; but, failing in that, you're only a pair of fools. Good people, (to spectators) I claim your protection, while I teh you the cause of mv presence here. Le N. Don't listen to her. She's a maniac. Cmv. Stop her mouth at once. {They both seize her. — She screams for help. — They endeavor to droicn her voice by holding her mouth. — At this moment Ukrbkut, followed by W' ool, enters rapidly, l. u. e. — Throws Col. Li: Noiu to l., and Wool throws ■CnwKV to R., who starts back to hit AVool, icho butts hnn tdl curtain doim. Cavitola throics her arms around IIeiujert. Picture. — Quick curtain), Ent) op Act IV. Act V. SCE:NE 1. — J/msjc, *^ Little More Cider." — riantation at Hurri- cane HalU (IS before, except that the fountain is moved up to Ihinl e., and trough from R. 2 e. removed. Enter Hurricane and Mrs. Condbient /rom 'touse, r. 4 449i:^i> 88 THE HIDDEN nAND. [ACT V. Hurricane. I tell yon, Mrs. Condiment, something must bo done, or this girl will be the death of me. If she were a boy, I'd thrash her; but what can I do with a girl? Mrs. Condiment. Lock her up in her chamber till she'a brought to reason. Hur. Dcmme, she'd jump out of the window and break her neck. Besides, she's such a way, and dlsobe)''s me in such a cajoling way, that I couldn't give her pain if her soul depended upon it. 3Irs. C. You should try moral suasion. JIar. When I do she laughs in my face. I wish to keep her until she is of legal age, and I don't want her to fall into the hands of a perfidious guardian until I can bring proof of his rascality. Mrs. C. Then this girl has received foul play from her friends. Hur. I should think so. Gabriel Lc Xoir has very nearly put his neck into a halter. Listen, Mrs. Condiment. Sixteen years ago the Hidden House was occupied by old Victor Le Xoir, who, dying, bequeathed to his eldest son, Eugene, the whole of his property, with this proviso: that should Eugene die with- out issue, the property should descend to his younger son, Ga- briel Le Noir. Mrs. C. An equitable will. Hur. Eugene shortly afterwards presented to his neighbors a young and lovely creature as Madame Eugene Le Noir. Poor Eugene! He did not long enjoy her, for one morning he was found murdered in the woods near his own house. Mrs. C. And the murderer? Hur. Was never discovered. Madam was never seen abroad after her husband's death. It was reported she had lost her reason. However, Eugene having died without issue, Gabriel stepped at once into possession of the whole estate. 3Irs. C. Yes, something of this I have heard. Hur. Very likely; but what you have not heard is that three months after the death of her husband Madame Eugene gave birth to twins, one living, the other dead. The dead child was privately buried ; the living one, together with the uurse, the sole witness of its birth, was abducted. Mrs. C. Great heavens ! Can this be true? Hur. True as gospel. You remember the night I was dragged out of my bed to see old Nancy Grewell? Mrs. C. I do, indeed. Hur. From her I received the information which induced mo to visit New York. She was the nurse; and the child, the heiress to this great estate, is none other than Capitola. Mrs. C. Capitola! Good gracious ! Hur. Now, you see my ol)ject in endeavoring to keep her witliin bounds, or this atrocious scoundrel will contrive some plan to make away with her, in order that he may retain the estate. SCBirE J.] THE HIDPEN IIAN1>. 39 Mrs C This accounts, then, for Black Donald's Tisit here. Ilur It does. But tlicre is some satisfaction in knowing that the rascal didn't break his neck in falling through the trap, lescrving it for the hangman. His execution is to take place to-morrow Enter CAriTOLA, l. u. e. You — vou— you New Yorkboy! —you foundling!— you vag- abond! -you brat! -you beggar! -will you never have sense, or will you keep continually running your head into daii""cr' , Ccm. Why, nunkey, that's nothing new. I'm only doing what you've done a hundred times; but come, now, I've got sometl-.ing to propose to you. I can't bear the tjionglit of be- iuo- the cause of that poor fellow. Black Donald's, death; that I was the means of hurrying him to such a fate. mr Ah! that reminds me that the reward offered for Ins apprehension was paid over to me. I have placed it to your account in bank. , .,, j.-, ■ ^ ^f Car). I don't want it! I won't touch it! -the price of blood ! - it would burn my fingers ! Uncle, it must be dread- ful, this hanging, and I declare I won't have it. 1 11 write a petition to the governor, and go round to get the signatures myself. . JIur. You won't get a soul to sign it. CoiJ. Well, then, I'll go to the governor, and ask him to pardon Black Donald. Ilur. The Governor won't do it to save all our lives ; and if he did, he might whistle for his re-election. Cap. And yet, I declare this man shall not die. Hur. Phew! there is a Don Quixote, ha! ha! ha! Shell delTver him by the strength of her own arm. Come along, Mrs. Condiment, and harkce, you baggage you. If you go on m this manner youUl break your old uncle's heart. It you were a bov I'd thrash you within an inch of your life; but as you are a girl, I love you so well that if harm should come to you the old man would sink into his grave with a broken heart. So think of that, you outlaw!— you imp of inischicl! — you — vou — Demme, I don't know what to call you ! • ^ {Exit into hoitse, ii. ii., icith Mns. Coxddient. Cap. But still he said Black Donald should be hung. I was th'^ cause of his being arrested, and I've the best right to save him if I can. Enter Wool, l. n. e. Wool Miss Catapiller, here's a letter for you. ' Cap. A letter for me? (Takes and opens it.) Why, I declare. It's from Cousin Stone. {Ikads) ''My dear cousin, — 1 must icarn you of a man calling himself Craven Lc Xoir. At a party, the other night, he mentioned your name diparayinghj. Knowing you 40 THE HIDDEN HA^^>. [Act \. to he as innocent as a lamb of the charges he made against yon, 1 took the liberty of giving him a sound thrashing ; for \chich he has politely challenged me to meet him, in order that he may have a shot at me, Now, as lam not a duelling man, I shall decline the invitation, hut shall take advantage tf the next time I meet hird to repeat the chastisement I have already given him. Tours, in haste, C. Stone." So, so, — Craven by name, Craven by nature. He shall bite the dust for this. Wool, can you shoot? Wool. I radcr tiuk not. Miss Catapiller. I tried it oncck Shot at a crow and killed a boss. Cap. Where are my uncle's pistols? Wool. Golly! what you gwan to do wid 'em? You aint gwan to shoot ole massa, is you ? Cap. I'll teach this wretch, that, girl though I am, he has woke up the wrong passenger; but first I'll see poor Donald Wool, saddle my pouy, Gyp, at once, and hark ye, if you dare to say one word to any person about it, I'll have your skin taken ofi' and made into cowhides to lash you through the world for the rest of your days. [Exit, l. Wool. Golly ! I'se sartin dey'll be de death of me. How dis nigger would look wid a cowhide made out ob his own skin ruuuing arter him through the world. Wool ! Wool ! you is iu for it. Golly! how savage she look! Yah! yah! 'minds me of ole mas'r when he shied de curricomb at my head toderday. O Wool! Wool! you is a gone nigger for sartin. Yes, I believe you. lExit, l. 1. e. SCENE 2. — Music, ''Massa in the Cold, Cold Ground." — In- terior of cell. — Black Donald, heavily manacled, totters on l. 1 E. — He is much emaciated and scarcely able to drag himself along. • Donald. Curses on them all ! Y''et, why should I curse her,— that girl? Did she not act boldly and bravely? She did ! she did ! And I love her for it, though little did I suspect her on that fatal night, when she plunged me through the trap, crush- ing and breaking all my bones. But, thanks to a stout heart and a strong constitution, I have recovered, and to-morrow,— pah! I must not think of to-morrow; though the crowd shall find that if Black Donald has lived a bad man, he can die a brave one ! Enter Catitola. (During speech she wears hood and cloak.) Cap. Donald Baync ! Don. You here! I'm glad you've come, my little one. I wanted to tell you that I was never guilty of murder, and I only consented to your death to save 3'our life. Do you believe mc? On the word of a dying man, I speak the truth. Cap. I do believe you. Don. God bless you, little one I Scene 2.] the hidden hand. 41 Cap. Can you say God bless mc, Tvbcn it was I who put you here? Don. Tut, tut, child ! The outlaw bears no malice. Spite is a civilized vice. It was a fair contest, and you conquered. Cap. Donald, I have done everything tliat I could to save your life ; I have tried all other means iu vain ; there is but one left. Don. (Qmcl-Ji/). Is there one? Cap. Tiiere is. Use well the life I'm about to give you, else I shall be chargeable with every future sin you commit. Don. In the name of mercy, girl, do not hold out a false hope. I had nerved myself to die. Cap. But yon were not prepared to meet your Creator. Lis- ten, Donald, here are tools, with the use of which you must be acquainted. They were found in the woods near the Hiddeo House. (Gives bag.) Will they do? Don. {opens it). Yes, yes ! With these I can file off my irons, pick every lock, and dislodge every bar betweeu me and free- dom. But there is one thing you have forgotten, girl. Sup- pose a turnkey or a guard should stop me? You have brought me no revolver I Cap. Not to save you from death would I have done so. I give you the means of freeing yourself, but it must be done without the shedding of blood ! Don. You are riglit, girl ! you are right! Cap. Here are a thousand dollars, and when you have picked vour way out of this go to the old mill; you will there find my horse. Gyp. Mount and ride for your life to tlie nearest sea- port ; from thence you can escape on ship-board to some for- eign country. Don. God bless you, brave girl ; and may Heaven forsake me if I do not heed your advice ! Cap. I'll conceal your tools and your money. The guard is at the door. I leave you, — good-by, — and again I say, " Heaven redeem you, Donald Baync ! " {Exit l. u. e.) Don. I don't know how it is ; but that girl has raised a feel- ing in my heart that tells mc I am human yet. Good girl ! Just at this time, too, when I had given up all hope. Witli these files and picks I can free myself from this accursed hole. I long for the free air again; and, once beyond these walls, Cap- Itola, thou Shalt find that Donald Bayne will redeem himself. The poor outlaw shall yet live to walk erect in the proud con- sciousness of being a repentant and an honest man. {MusiCy ** Life on the Ocean Wave:') [Exit ii. 1 e. SCENE LAST. — T/iC roadside. — A portion of plantation seen. — A finger post with sign, " To Tip-Top,'* u. e. l. Enter Craven -Le Noir, l. u. e. Craven. Tnily t^n exciting adventure. The idea of a elrl IS * THE HIDDEN HAND. [Acr V. challenn^In^ a gentleman ! Why, the world's becoming so com* plctely changed that I shouldn't wonder if the Avomeii usurped our positions in it. Now it is possible this Capitola, whom I candidly confess I love for her money, may accept the terms I ofi'ered as the condition of my meeting her. If so, my fatlier's hopes will be fulfilled. If uot; why, Craven, my boy, you'll have to. look elsewhere for something to carry you safely tbrougli this vale of tears. Enter CAriTOLVj hastily. — Slie hrings two revolvers. Cap. Mr. Le Noir, — Cra. Yonr most obedient, Miss Black. Cap. I liappen to be withont father or brother to protect me from aflVont; I'm therefore under the novel necessity of fighting my own battles. I sent yon a note, demanding satis- fjiction for the slander you circulated against me. Your reply added insult to injur}'. You do not escape punishment so. There arc two pistols, — both are loaded, — take either one you choose. We have met, aud we do uot part until one of us falls I Cra. Miss Black; as the challenged party, I have the choice of arms, time, and place. I made that choice in my note to you. When you accede to the terms of the meeting, I shaU endeavor to give you all the satisfaction yon demand. Cap. AVhat! That base insult again? {Throws pistol down) Take up that weapon and defend yourself! Cra. I most respectfully decline. Miss Black. You arc cer- tainly a most charming young lady; but — Cap. Mr. Le Noir, I give you one minute to decide. Cra. I have already decided. (Capitola fires rapidly the six barrels at him. — He falls.) Enter IIutjiicaxe, ^Ins. CoxDniExr, and Wool, r. u. e.— Wool catches Crwe^. ITitr. What the devil does all this mean? Cap. Ouly that I've been chastising a craven that insulted me. Uar. Demmc ! You New York newsboy ! Will you never bo a woman ? Why didn't you tell me ? I'd have cailcd him out, and thrashed him to his heart's content ! Cra. Stay! Let me speak. Let uo harm come to Miss Black on my account. Life is ebbing fast. I acknowledge the great wrong I have done her. I slandered her in revenge for her rejection of my suit. Let me die at peace with all. Cap. (crosses to'c.) Don't die yet. You've all heard Mr. Le Noir's dying speech and confession. Now be sure you're right, — th'jn go ahead. Is there no one here cool enough to rerici;'. ti.at if 1 fired six bullets at that man's forehead I should have blown his head into pie? Jliir. What do iou meau? Answer me ! you wild, infatuated rowdy, you ! Scenes.] the hidden h.vnd. 43 Cap. Why, you sec, I'd made up my mind to teach Lc Koir a lesson, and not ivisiiin;? to add more to my catalogue of sins, I withdrew the bullets from the pistols, and in their place sub- stituted — JIur. Wtat? C'«j). Bi-ied peas! Ha! lia! Iia! {^All hurst out laugiimfj . — Craven v:alks np and down enrarjed.)- Cra. Laughcdat and mocked by her! O fool! But I'll be revenged on her yet. Major Warfleld, I — Ilur. Dried peas! Ha, ha, ha! Cra. Miss Bhick, I — Cap. How did you like the dried peas? Ha! ha! Cra. I shall choke with rage. I — I (^Encounters Wool, T ^ 2 E.^j Wool. Dried peas! Yah, yah! {Cr.KWE:s pushes him aside and exits, L. 1 E.) ^„ . , Wool. I believe vou. lExit, L. 1 E. Hur. Wliy the devil didn't you pepper him with something sharper tlian dried peas? Cap. Couldn't come it, nunkey. Hadn't the least idea of getting scraijgcd on his account. Hnr. Scragged! You slang-bird! Ill — I'll — I'll have you married at once; for, deramc, I can make nothing out of you. You shall marry Herbert as soon as he returns. Cap. You give your consent, eh, uncle? Hur. Of course I do. Though I suppose you'd marry with- out it, if I didn't. Enter Herbert, l. u. e. Cap. O Herbert, I'm so glad you've come. Herbert. Capitola, I bring you joyful news. Black Donald has escaped. " Cap. {aside) . Thank Heaven ! But poor Gyp, — I shall never see him again. Enter Wool, l. u. e. Wool. O massa major, I'se just been down to de stable, and golly, Fleetfoot done and gone. Hur. What! my best horse missing? Wool. I believe you. But Gyp was in his stall, and around his neck was dis bag of money and dis ere paper. Hur. (takes and reads). " Three hundred dollars, to pay for Fleetfoot'. Black Donald, reformed robber,'* Cap. Brave heart ! Hur. Then the devil-dash the robber has escaped; but I'll not get in a rage to-day about it. Herbert, my boy, I received your letter, with the proofs you had obtained of my poor wife's innocence. I have already sent for her and my son. Her. (crosses to him). Yes, sir, and here is the written confes- sion of Col. Le Noir, whom I left on his death-bed, in which 14 THE HIDDEN ^A^^>. [Acr V. he says lie sonprht to win the affections of Marah Eocke, but that she repulsed and avoided him. {Crosses l.) Hur. My poor wire. Her. TIku lie bribed her maid to admit him to her^charaber, on the niijlit thit you found him there ; and that iu .hatred and shame he Ibrebore till now to make this confession. Cap. Oh I you terrible old man, was this what you meant, ■vrhon you thrcateuod to put somebody over my head? Iliir. No. no, Capitola, though to keep you in order I'll do so now, — better hue than never. Her. There is still more in the confession, which concerns you Capitola. Cap. Concerns me! I must be getting some importance in the play. Her. He confesses to the deception, wrongs, and persecu- tions practised upon Madame Eugene Le Koir, your mother. Cap. My mother! Her. That he caused h^r to be confined in the Hidden House, and circulated the report of her death. Grief for the loss of hiT husband and child almost bereft her of reason. She was permitted to wander about the house at will, in order that her mysterious appearance might corroborate the suspicions that the house was haunted. On the night that you slept there she wandered to ycur chamber, when Le Noir, fearing that all would bo discovered, caused her to be conliued in a private mad-house. Cap. And does she still live? Her. She does. Cap. O crickey ! how happy I feel to think I have a mother. Her. Means have already been taken for her release. In a few days she will be here to join us. But see, uncle, here is Traverse and your wife ! Enter Tr-vverse, ^Iarau Rocke, and Clara Day, l. 1 E. Hur. Marah! Mar. Husband! (Crosses anc2 throics herself into his arms. Traverse r/ets on r.) 7"rav. Father! Hnr. Sou! Cap. There's a splendid tableau; who's going to embrace rae? Wool, {down L.) I'se on hand, Miss Catapiller. (Her. dnves him vp.) Hur. Marah, can you forgive me? Mar. Ay, and forget, too. For years in silence I have waited for this day ! "Heaven has smiled upon me, and I am happy. Cap. I say, uncle, Herbert wants to follow your example, and — and — Hur. Get married, eh ! "Why, he's a boy of twenty-five, and a fool to take a wife at his asa. Scene 3.] tiie hidden hand. 45 Cap. Not worse than taking a wife at your age, — an infant of sixty-six. JIur. Bother! Well, you're both of age, do as yon please. Cap. Just what wa intend to. {Goes to lIi:ni5i:iiT). Uar, Traverse, my boy, you love Miss Day, take her and bo happy, both. {Joins their hands.) And now, you vagabond, you biat, you vagrant, you beggar, you are the sole heiress of the Hidden House estate, and all its enormous Avcalth. Caj:). Nunkey, don't mock me. I don't care for wealth or pnwer; but tell me if the parents possessing both cast their child to meet the perils and sufferings of such a life as mine? ILir. "We have all been the victims of one villain, — Gabriel Le Noir, — to morrow Herbert will tell yon all, to-day we'll devote to pleasure. We'll have a triple wedding, and, demme, all get married together. Wool, {down L.) Hold on massa, here's Tit-a-pat here. (She enters, l. u. e.) She is dying for a husband, and if you've no objections I'll take her, and make a quartette of it. Her. AVhat, Wool, you want to get married? Wool. Yes, I believe you. Caji. Then our play is ended. Miss Day, you have got the .man of your choice. Uncle, I congratulate you on your recon- ciliation to yours, for now I shall have less i'ear to soothe, and make a respectable old man of you. For myself, Herbert, if you love me, there's my hand, and under yoiir manl>j protection may I never have cause to regret the step that I have talceu, oi wish for the days to return when I wore the habits of the — "Poor Newsboy." {Music). CUBTAIN ON PiCTUEB. SOUTHWORTH, Emma (Dorotliv Eliza Ne- vitte). novelist, was boru Dec. 26, 1819 in Washing- ton, D.C., where she received an excellent education. An early marriage with Frederick 8outhworth resulted \infortunately, and slie was compelled to become a teacher in the public schools of Washing- ton in order to support herself and an infant boy and iiirl. She commenced her caieer as an author by wl-iting short stories for tlie Baltimore " Visitor." Her first serial story, " Retribution," was published in the " National Era" of Washington in 1847. It was afterwards republished in book form and attracted much attention. Henry Peterson, pub- lisher of the Philadelphia "Saturday Evening Post," then the leading story paper of the country, was impressed by her^growing power and invited her to become a contributor to his columns. She accepted his invitaiion, and for several years con- tributed to the "Post" serial stories which Mr. Peterson afterward reprinted in book form. When Robert Bonner purchased the New York " Ledger" he secured her exclusive services as a contributor to that journal, and this arrangement continued for more than thirty years. From 1857 to 18G0 she resided in England. For many years she was a resi- dent of Georgetown, D. C, but in 1876 reni^oved to Yonkers, N. Y., where she purchased a pleasant home in which she has .since resided. During her long and exceedingly prolitic career as an author *^she has written and published sixty-eight novels. The most popular (»f these are "The Deserted Wife," "The Mother in-Law," "Curse of Clifton," "The Discarded Daughter," "The Lost Heir- ess," "Lshmael," "Self-Rais- ed," "Only a Girl's Heart," "The Trail of the Serpent," and "The Hidden Hand." The latter in a dramatized version was for many years exceedingly popular on the P^ng lish and American stage. ]\Irs^ Southworth's stories are located for the most part in ^Maryland and Virgin la. They display great ingenuity in the construction of plot and charac-ter, and good descriptive powers. They all have a distinct moral purpose. Previous to the civil war Mrs. Southworth was an ardent abolitionist, and by her writings greatly aided that cause. She is a woman of refined sensibilities, and a brilliant conversationalist, and is greatly beloved in private life. UNivi of CALIFORNIA n^0C ' i^C(XIOQ.aO0O0X30X^CO(X^(Xl000OC^QX]iCOaGaQ<!^(>r ^ 37. 3S. 39. 42. '; 43. 46. 4'J. 50. 51. SPENCER'S univehsal stage. I>iainond cut TMamond. An In- Torlu'lu in <Jue Act. liy W . H. Mur- ray, lu -Alale, 1 t'eniale character. 1.00 k after Bro-^vn. A Farce in One Act. By George A. Stuart, M. D. <5 Male, 1 Female character. >Iousei{;neur. A Drama in Three Acts, liy Thomas Archer. 15 Male, 3 Female cliaractcrs. A very pleasant flveaing. A Faroe in One Act. By \Y. E. Suter. 3 Male characters. Brotlier Ben. A Farce in One Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 Male, 3 Female characters. Only a Clod. A Comic Drama in One Act. By J. P. Simpson. 4 Male, 1 Female character. Gaspardo the Gondolier. A ■ Drama in Three Acts. By George Almar. 10 Male, 2 Female charac- ters. \ Suusliine through the Clouds. ' A Drama in One Act. By Slingsby Lawrence. 3 Male, 3 Female char- acters. ' Don't Judffe by Appearances. A Farce inDne Act. By J. M. Mor- ton. 3 Male, 2 Female characters. IVuvsey Chiclcweed. A Farce in One Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 Male, 2 Female characters. Mary j»Ioo ; or, "Which shall I Marry? A Farce in One Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 Male, 1 Female character. Kast ILiynue. A Drama in Five Acts. 8 Male, 7 Female characters. The niddeu Hand. A Drama in Five Acts. By Robert Jones. Itj Male, 7 Female characters. Silverstone's "Wager. A T ommedi- etta in One Act. By R. R. .Andrews. 4 Male, 3 Female characters. Dora. A Pastoral Drama in Three Acts. By Charles Reade. 5 Male, 2 Female characters. Blank.s and Prizes. A Farce in One Act. By Dexter Smith. 5 Male. J Female characters. Old Gooseherry. A Farce in One Act. By T. J. Wiiliam.s. 4 Male, 2 Female characters. 53. Who's "fl'ho. A Farce in One Act. By T. J. Williams. 3 Male, 2 Fe- male characters. 54. Bouquet. A Farce in One Act. 2 Male, 3 Female characters. 55. The Wife's Secret. A Play in !• ive Acts. By George W. Lovell. 10 Male, 2 Female characters. 56. The Bahes in the Wood. A I Comedy in Three Acts. By Tom I Taylor. 10 Male, 3 Female charac- I ters. 57. Putkins : Heir to Castles in the Air. A Comic Drama in One Act. j By W. R. Emerson. 2 Male, 2 Fe- male characters. 58. An I'gly Customer. A Farce in One Act. By Thomas J. Willjnms. ' 3 Male, 2 Female characters. 59. Blue and Cherry. A Comedy in One Act. 3 Male, 2 Female charac- ters. 60. A Doubtful Victory. A Comedy in One Act. 3 Male, 2 Female char- acters. e.'j.. The Scarlet r.etter. A Drama in (p Three Acts. 8 Male, 7 Female char- acters. 62. Which will have Him P A Vau- deville. 1 Male, 2 Female charac- ters. 63. Madam is Abed. A Vaudeville in One Act. 2 Male, 2 Female charac- ters. 64. The Anonymous Kiss. A Vaude- ville. 2 Male, 2 Female characters. 65. The Cleft Stick. A Comedy in Three Acts. 5 Male, 3 Female char- acters, m. A Soldier, a Sailor, a Tinker, and a Tailor. A Farce in One Act. 4 ilalc, 2 Female characters. 67. Give a Dog a Bad IVame. A Farce. 2 Male, 2 Female Characters. 68. Damon and Pythias. A Farce. t. Jlale, 4 Female characters. 69. A Husband to Order. A Serio- comic Drama in Two Acts. 5 Male, 3 Female characters. 70. Payable on Demand. A Domes- tic Drama in Two Acts. 7 Male, 1 Female character. ^ ^j^ i CiaQO Price, 15 cents each. Descriptive Catalogue mailed free on application to GEO. M. BAKER A CO., Nos. 41-4S Franklin 8tre«t, Boftoa H ^' OB. J IT SJ University of California Library Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below JUL 1 7 2000 OUE 2 WKS FROM OA III- H^n E RECEIVED •oas'sonv iaAao:a rm L9— 4 CWeAtl A Teiider^fTtsreinirnir 7 cnar, « • x^ The Th-ief of Time. 6 chnr. ... 15 Tlie Ilypoclioncliiac. 5 char. . . 15 A Public Benefactor. 6 char. . . 15 The lluna-ivays. 4 char 15 Coals of Fire. 6 char. 15 WwTPD A Male Cook. 4 char. ... 15 Troubles 8 char 15 leiiuue uiaiai.ii.1. — > ». »'»■■ Bonbons ; or, The Paint- King. 3 ni ' I female character The Pedler of Very Nice. 7 "' characters .Ax Original Idea, i male, 1 fern character. Capuletta ; or, Romeo and Julii Rf.stored. 3 male, 1 female cnaract TEMPJEJtAyCE I'JECrS. '.E Last Loaf. 5 male, 3 female character:^ ;e Tempter. 3 male, i female character. ^B| 3 1158 00919 8499 1 r^^^^i-