Jessie. O Aunt Charity, he was so good! he loved me so dearly!
Charity. And he has fallen. Who told you this?
Jessie. His friend Mr. Thornton: he is here now, speaking with father. O dear aunt! can nothing be done to save him?
Charity. Thornton? What Thornton? Speak, Jessie, who is he?
Jessie. Here comes Mr. Thornton. I will not see him. He has spoken to me of love, – his love for me, almost in the same breath in which he told of Harry's ruin. Oh, let me go! I can not, will not meet him. (Runs off l.)
Charity. So, so: the friend of Harry makes love to his wife that is to be, and his name is Thornton. I am curious to see this friend. (Enter Thornton from house.)
Thornton. That job's over. Now for Miss Jessie. (Charity rises.) Charity Goodall!
Charity. Yes, Charity Goodall, widow of Mark Goodall, your friend, Robert Thornton.
Thornton (aside). What fiend sent her here to blast my well-laid plans?
(Capt. Bragg appears r., and leans on the fence. He is a little tipsy. No Toodles business).
Charity. So, sir, you are the friend of my nephew, Harry Maynard? here on a mission of mercy, to break gently to his sorrowing friends the news of his downfall?
Thornton. 'Tis true.
Charity. And to console his affianced wife with the proffer of your affection.
Thornton. 'Tis false!
Charity. It is the truth. I know you, Robert Thornton. Your work made my life a burden. You robbed me of one I loved; and now you have wound your coils about another victim.
Thornton. You are mistaken: I sought to keep him from temptation; but he was reckless, and forsook me.
Charity. Where is he now?
Thornton. I know not; neither do I care. He robbed me; and, were he found, I should give him up to justice.
Charity. Staunch friend indeed! He robbed you? I do not believe it. I have cause to mistrust you. I never dreamed you were the friend of Harry. But now I can see your wicked scheme. You have him in your power, but beware! My mission is to save. (Goes up r.)
Thornton (coming to l.). Too late, too late. I do not fear you.
Maynard (outside, r.). Say no more: I will not seek him. (Enter from house, followed by Mrs. Maynard.)
Mrs. Maynard. O John, don't say that! He is our only boy.
Maynard. He has disgraced the name of Maynard. I will not seek, I will never allow him to cross my threshold. He went out a man: he shall never return a brute. (Enter Capt. Bragg, r., through gate.)
Capt. Now, done yer say that, Maynard (hic). It's disgrace-ful to drink. I mean to get full. I never got full. I can drink a gallon, an' walk straight, I can (hic). But I'm a Bragg. I'm Cap'en Bragg of the Horse Marines; no, the ill-ill-lus'rus Lawless Rangers, every man – full – full – six – Now look a' here, look a' me, if your son's gone to the dogs, don't you give him up. Look a' me. I'm Bragg. I had a son: you know him: went off twenty years ago. Do I give him up? Not a bit of it (hic). He'll come back one of these days, rolling in his carriage; I mean in wealth. But then, he's a Bragg. We can't all be Braggs. Come, le's go down, and hunt him up. I know all the places.
Maynard. Not a step will I stir. (Enter Jessie, l.) He has made his bed: let him sleep in it. He shall not disgrace my house with his presence.
Jessie (runs to him, falls on her knees). No, no, father: don't say that. You will not cast him off. Think what a kind son he was: how he loved us all. You will try to save him, father! Don't say you will not; my heart will break.
Maynard. Jessie, you know not how low he has fallen. My son of whom I was so proud! He has disgraced his home. Henceforth he is no longer son of mine. I will not seek him. I have said it, Jessie, and John Maynard never breaks his word.
Jessie (crosses to Mr. Thornton). O Mr. Thornton! you will seek him: you will save him for my sake?
Thornton. He is past redemption. 'Twere useless.
Jessie. Then I will go in search of him.
Maynard. You, Jessie?
Jessie. Yes, I. He saved me, when a babe, from the pitiless storm; now I will seek him.
Thornton. This is folly. He lurks with the vile and worthless, in dens of filth and vice. Who will lead you there?
Charity (comes down c.). I will.
Jessie (rises and runs into her arms). O Aunt Charity!
Charity. Yes, I. When man shrinks from the work of salvation, let woman take his place. Look up, child! Foul treachery has insnared him. From the toils of the false friend, from the crafty arts of the boldest of schemers, we will snatch him: from the depths of despair, we will save him. Past redemption, Robert Thornton? False! While there is life, there is hope!
(Charity with her arms about Jessie, c.; Thornton, l.; Capt. Bragg, l. c.; Maynard, r. c.; Mrs. Maynard, r. Tom and Kitty come on r., and stand behind fence, looking on, quietly.)
ACT III. – Charity's Quest
Scene. —An elegant drinking-saloon. In flat, r. and l., arched doorways, with steps leading up and off r. and l.; between these a mirrored door, closed, opening to l., and showing; when open, steps leading up over archway, l. Over arch the flat is painted on gauze for illumination. Three steps leading up to door, c., being a part of the steps that lead off r. and l.; the whole flat handsomely gilded. Bar running up and down stage, r.; behind bar, a handsome side-board, with decanters, glasses, and the usual paraphernalia of a bar-room. Table, l. c., with two chairs; l. of table a lounge, on which Tom Larcom is stretched, apparently asleep. Thornton r., and Murdock l. of table, seated, bottle and glasses before them. Daley behind bar, and two gentlemen, well dressed, standing before it, drinking. After Thornton speaks they exit r., up steps.
Murdock. Thornton, you have a princely way of doing things, and the luck of the evil one himself.
Thornton. Shrewdness, old fellow. I'm an old hand at this sort of business, and glitter and dash go a long way in sharpening the appetites of one's customers.
Murdock. There's something more than glitter about this wine.
Thornton. The wine is good, and costly too. Of course, I do not set this before everybody, or the profits would hardly come up to my expectation. I never throw pearls before swine. Home-made wares pay the best profit.
Murdock. Ah! you do a little in the way of doctoring?
Thornton. A great deal, Murdock. I have a very good dispensary close at hand, and Maynard has made himself decidedly useful in that branch.
Murdock. Maynard? is that miserable sot of any use to you now?
Thornton. Oh, yes! I alone can control him. Poor devil! he's breaking up fast. It's a pity such a likely young fellow could not let rum alone; but he would drink, and will until the end comes. 'Twill not be long.
Murdock. Where do you keep him? I've not seen him about to-night.
Thornton. Close by, but out of sight. Some of his friends, a few months ago, made a demonstration towards his rescue from the pit into which he had fallen. I believe they are now searching high and low for him.
Murdock. An idle task, while he is in your clutches.
Thornton. You're right, Murdock: he stood between me and the dearest wish of my life. Meddling fools thwarted me in that; and now, from sheer revenge, I'll hold him from them all.
Murdock. I'd rather have you for a friend than an enemy. (Rising.) Good-night. I must look after my own humble quarters. Ah! if I could only have your dash!
Thornton. There's money in it, Murdock. (Rises.)
Murdock. I believe you: good-night.
Thornton. Good-night: drop in again. (Murdock goes up and off r., up steps.) Daley, who's that on the lounge?
Daley (comes from behind bar). I don't know him: he dropped in an hour ago, took a drink, and rolled on to the lounge.
Thornton. Well, rouse him up, and get him out: that don't look respectable. (Goes behind bar, and looks about.)
Daley (goes to Tom, and shakes him). Come, friend, rouse up. (Another shake.) Do you hear? rouse up!
Tom (slowly rises and looks at him). Rouse up? wha's that (hic)? No, le's fill up; that's besser (hic).
Daley (shaking him). Well, get up; you're in the way.
Tom (sitting up, and looking at him). Say, wha's (hic) yer name?
Daley. My name's Daley.
Tom. Daily (hic) what? Times? Oh, I know: you're a (hic) newsboy (hic), you are. Don't want no papers. (Attempts to lie down again.)
Daley. Come, come, this won't do. Get up, I say!
Tom. I always take (hic) my breakfast in bed.
Daley. You'll take yourself out of this! (Gets him on to his feet.)
Tom. Wh- (hic) what you say, Mister Times? Say (hic), le's drink!
Daley. No: it's time you were home.
Tom. Home (hic)? wha's that? Fools a (hic) to this? (Staggers across, and clutches bar.) I'm goin' t'stay (hic) here forever and always (hic), forever.
Thornton. Oh, get him out, Daley!
Tom. Yes, get me out, Daily, for (hic) exercise. Take the air (hic). Air's good; le's have some sugar (hic) in mine. (Gets down, r.; aside, sobered.) So he's here, – Maynard is here. I've run the fox to earth at last. (As before.) Fetch on the drinks, D-Daily (hic) and a little oftener.
Daley. Here's your hat; come. This way, this way. (Leads him up to steps, r.)
Tom (at steps, turns round). Hole on a minute, D-Dai- (hic) ly; give us your hand, D-Daily. I'll be back soon (hic), an' we'll never (hic), never (hic) part any more (hic). Good mornin', D-D-aily (hic), good-morn. (Exit up steps. Thornton comes down to table, l.; Daley takes bottles and glasses from table and goes behind bar. Two gentlemen enter, r., drink, and go off.)
Thornton (sits at table). The luck of the evil one! Murdock is but half right. The loss of that girl is a stroke of ill-fortune that imbitters all my prosperity. Get your supper, Daley; I'll look after the bar. (Daley exits, r., up steps.) But for the interference of Charity Goodall, she would have been mine. They have not found the missing Maynard yet. I have him safe: he cannot escape me. (Soft music. The mirrored door, between entrances in flats, slowly opens, and Harry Maynard, shrinking and trembling, with feeble steps, comes down, closing the door behind him. He creeps down to Thornton's chair.)
Harry. Thornton, Thornton!
Thornton (turns with a start). You here?
Harry (trembling). Yes, yes; don't be fierce, don't. It is so dark and dismal up there! and the rats – oh, such rats! – glare at me from their holes. I couldn't stay. Don't send me back: I'll be very quiet. I'm sober too. Not a drop for two days: not a drop.
Thornton. What's the matter with you now?
Harry. Oh! nothing, nothing: only I wanted to be sociable (tries to smile), – as sociable as you and I were in the old times.
Thornton. Sociable! you and I! Bah! you're shaking like an aspen. What friendship can there be between me and a miserable sot like you?
Harry. Yes, I know I'm not the man I used to be: I know it. Oh, the thought of that other life I lived once, tortures me almost to madness!
Thornton. Well, why don't you go back to it?
Harry. Back? back to that old home among the hills from which I came, full of lusty manhood? Back to the old man who looked upon me with all a father's pride? the dear mother whose darling I was? the fair, young girl whose heart I broke? Back there, with tottering steps, a pitiful wreck, to die upon the threshold of the dear old home? No, no: not that, not that!
Thornton. Then be quiet. You have brought ruin upon yourself: you can't complain of me.
Harry. No, I don't complain. It was a fair picture of fame and fortune you laid before me; and when I found the honorable mercantile business, in which you had amassed wealth, was work like this, I should have turned back.
Thornton. I told you to keep a clear head and a steady hand; to sell, not poison yourself with my liquid wares.
Harry. Yet you placed pleasures before me that turned my head, and —
Thornton. They never turned mine. You were a fool, and fell.
Harry. Ay, a fool! Yes, your fool, Robert Thornton. I quaffed the ruby wine, I flung myself into every indulgence, because you led me. I must keep a cool head and a steady hand, with fire in my veins! I feel I am condemned. Of my own free will, I flung away a life. I do not complain; but, when we stand before the last tribunal, Heaven be the judge if your hands are unstained with my life-blood, Robert Thornton.
Thornton. Enough of this: back to your den.
Harry. No, no, Thornton, not there! I will be quiet, silent; but do not, in mercy, do not drive me back there!
Thornton. Poor devil! Well, stay here: look after the bar until Daley returns. (Aside, going l.) He can't resist: he'll make a dive for the brandy, and forget. Two days without it: I should not have allowed that. (Exit l., i. e.)
Harry. Stay here! No, no, he has given me a chance for freedom. The doors are open: a dash, and I am free. Free for what? To die in the gutter. I could drag myself no farther; and who would look with compassion on such a ragged, bloated wretch as I? No, no: I have sold myself, body and soul, to this accursed life. (Staggers to bar.) Let me get at the brandy; that, at least, will bring freedom, – freedom from this maddening thirst, these horrible fears that drive me mad. (Staggers behind bar.) Ah, here, here! (Seizes decanter.) The balm for bitter memories. Stop, stop! That vision in the night, – Jessie, with her warning finger: and the old melody I loved so well rang in my ears. I vowed I'd drink no more, though I should die of madness. (Buries his face in his arms upon the bar. Enter r., down steps, Capt. Bragg.)
Capt. Found a new place. (Looking about.) Superb – gorgeous – dazzling! Here's juiciness! Just my idea of a palace. The man who figured this place no doubt believes his plan original. Absurd! I planned it years ago. Bragg's plan stolen! Fact, by jingo! (Raps on bar.) Come, young man, business, business. (Harry raises his head: Bragg staggers back.) Harry Maynard, or I'm no Bragg! (Comes to bar, and offers his hand.) Harry, young fellow, how are you? (Harry falls back, and glares at him.) Don't know me, hey? Why, I'm Bragg, Capt. Bragg, your distinguished townsman; Bragg of the Rangers; every man a sharpshooter, and their commander – well, modesty forbids my mentioning him in fitting panegyrics. Why, how you stare! You don't look well.
Harry. I don't know you.
Capt. Won't do, my boy, won't do. You may be able to bluff common folks, but I'm Bragg; Bragg of the judicial brow, Bragg of the penetrating eye: it's a keen one, and, when I fixed that detective's orb upon you, I said, There's my man! Why, they've fitted out an exploring party for the purpose of hunting you up, – Mrs. Charity Goodall, Jessie, Tom Larcom, and that black imp Stub. They've scoured the city in vain. They didn't ask my help, and I am the keen-eyed volunteer that never misses his mark. I have found you. Oh, here's glory, for Bragg's outwitted 'em all! I knew I should: Bragg never fails, never; and now I've got you, you can't escape me. Come, come, don't glare like a madman. What will I have? Brandy, of course! (Harry sets decanter and glass before him.) They made a mistake: when there's any detective business to be done, call a Bragg. He can see farther and run faster than the sharpest of 'em. Fact, by jingo. (Pours liquor into glass.) Ah, that's my style! (Raises glass.) Here's to the glorious Rangers, Bragg's own!
Harry (excitedly). Stop! don't drink that. See, there's a snake twisting and turning about in the glass. Stop, or you are a dead man!
Capt. (sets down glass, and staggers back). Jersey lightning!
Harry (glaring). See, it's raising its head, – it will strike deep and sure: and there's another, and another. Look, they are crawling about the decanter: now they drop upon the bar: they are upon you: tear them off, tear them off! They strike and kill, strike and kill!
Capt. He's raving mad. I wish I was well out of this.
Harry. Thicker and thicker, faster and faster, they come upon the bar. See them glare at me! Back, back! (Dashes his hands upon bar.) Ah, they coil about my arms. Away, away! (Attempts to tear them off.) They crawl about me: they are at my throat. Help, help, help! (Runs into c., and falls upon floor.)