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Credits: David Hoyle

THE TYRANT of GILLBECK MILL
IN FOUR ACTS by
ALFRED    TEAL
Author of " The Crowling Ironsides."
 

Printed and Published by Watmocghs Limited, Idle, Bradford. who  Reserve All  Eights.

ACT  I.
SCENE 1.   Office   at   Gillbeck  Mill         ..............       ...      Page   6

SCENE 2.   Dowshaw   meets   Mr.   Ogden         ............           „    9

SCENE 3.   Warier Farm         ..........................................          „     9

SCENE 4.   Jim  Stubbin's   Eggs       ........................................... ,     11

SCENE 5.   Office  at Gillbeck  Mill          ...................................      12

ACT  II.
SCENE 1.   Seth  Ogden  makes  love.......................       .................          „           15

SCENE 2.   Jack  Harden  meets  Mally  Watson    .................          „           17

SCENE 3.   Pinder's Cottage,  Saltpie      ....................................          „           19

SCENE 4.   Dowshaw    proposes                ................................          „           21

SCENE 5.   Handloom weaving        ........................................................................ 23

ACT  III.

SCENE 1.   A   Restless  Night           ........................................................           „            25

SCENE 2.   Tire   at  Gillbeck  Mill           ..................................................................... 25

SCENE 3.   Farewell                  ...................................................................          „             27

SCENE 4.   Gibb   Hill       ......................................................        ........................................ 29

SCENE 5.   Grace  Bell in trouble........................................................       ............................. 32

SCENE 6.   Ned  Driver's  Pub         .......................................................................... ,        34

ACT  IV.

SCENE 1.   Sandy   Creek,   California      ................................................          „            35

SCENE 2.   No news  of Seth Ogden       .......................................................................... 37

SCENE 3.   The  Home-coming          ................................................................................. 38

SCENE 4.   The  Strangler takes  action         ............................          „            41

SCENE 5.   Malsis    Fair           .............................................................................          „           42

 

THE TYRANT OF GILLBECK MILL.

CHARACTERS:

Seth Ogden..................................... Master of Gillbeck Mill

Jim Stubbin ... Cashier and Manager at Gillbeck Mill

Harry Bell ..............................  Farmer, " Warier Farm "

Hannah Bell ............................................................. His Wife

Grace Bell..................................................... Their Daughter

Jim Dowshaw................................................. General Carrier

Jack Harden .................................  Jobbing Farmer's Man

Bob Pinder ............  General Factotum at Gillbeck Mill

Emma Martin ................................ Dowshaw's Sweetheart

Mrs. Pinder.................. Bob Pinder's Mother, of Saltpie

Ned Driver ................................................................  Publican

Luke Driver............................................ Handloom Weaver

Sol  Watson ...........................................  Handloom Weaver

Mally Watson ... His Wife, and Mrs. Pinder's Mother

Smuts....................................................... A California Miner

The Village Constable..................................................................

 

DRESSES.
JIM STUBBIN.—Well dressed, smart in appearance during the first two Acts and part of the third, gradually gets a degraded appearance. In Act IV., very shabbily dressed, red nose, and bloated face.

SETH OGDEN.—Well dressed. Dressed as a miner Scene 1, Act IV. Disguised in Scene 3, Act IV.; spectacles, wig and whiskers, made up like an American.

BOB PINDER.—An overgrown lad. Jacket too short in the sleeves, knee breeches, which he has grown out of, and wanting repairs.

SOL WATSON.—Dressed as an old man, with knee breeches and buttoned leggings, and sleeved waistcoat; silk tie around his neck.

LUKE DRIVER.—Middle-aged person,  in working attire.

DOWSHAW.—Country gawky, with smock and leggings, and a slouched  hat.

HARDEN.—Smock and fustian trousers, tied around the legs with string.

GRACE BELL.--Very neatly dressed; no elaborate finery about her, but attractive.

HARRY  BELL.—Ordinary  farmer's attire MRS. BELL.—Ordinary dress.

MALLY WATSON.—An old woman, old-fashioned bonnet, -and fringed shawl over her shoulders

MRS. PINDER.—Poorly dressed; a bard-working woman who has  a  struggle  to make  ends meet.

STUBBS.—Dressed as  a rough miner.

EMMA  MARTIN.—Dressed  in   gay   attire,   with plenty of   colour; a little gaudy.

NED  DRIVER.—Publican,  with  apron on,  serving.


ACT I.—Scene  1.
(Office,  Gillbeck Mill—Table, desk,  scales, etc.)

STUBBIN: Here I am dragging out my existence in this out-of-the-way corner of the world. I am considered a man with a good situation, but not a corresponding salary. Ah! But the salary is what I make it. There are more methods of getting money than investing it in business. Seth Ogden, the master, leaves everything to me. I have practically everything under my own control, keeping the books, paying the wages, booking the cloth; in fact, doing everything as if ! owned the place, while the boss manages insid: the works, tuning the looms, preparing the warps, etc. He might consider he gives me a decent salary, but a mere nothing to what he is getting out of the business. True, he has his money laid cut in Gillbeck Mill, but should not brains count as well? I have one thing in my favour, he never interferes with my department, and he has full confidence in me. So if I do not make it worth while for myself, it is my own fault. Seth
Ogden shall not reap all the harvest, I will see to that.   (Knock).

STUBBIN: Come in. (Enter Pinder.) Well, what is it, Pinder?

PINDER: They're two handloom weeavers brought ther' pieces, an' wants paying for 'em.

STUBBIN:  Who  are   they?

PINDER: Sol Watson and Luke Driver.

STUBBIN: Send in Solomon Watson first. (Exit Pinder). I will fleece these idiots a little more than I have done in the past; the fine will help my salary a little.   Ha! ha! ha!

(Enter Sol Watson with a piece  of cloth, and waste.)

STUBBIN (Looks over the cloth and points out two or three faults): Do you call this cloth worth anything? Broken picks every yard, and no less than four faulty places in the piece. You don't deserve a penny for it.

SOL: Ov done mi best with it; it's varra tender stuff i-t'weft, it u'll hardly hing tagether.

STUBBIN: I did not expect it would be your fault, tho' I'" guarantee it's nearly all been woven by candlelight.

SOL: Well, if it hez, ye haven't hed ta pay for t' cannels.

STUBBIN: If you do not mind what you say I will mak you pay for the piece. Most of you handloom weaves throw good daylight away and work through the night.

SOL: Will ya let ma hev mi brass, an' ol be gooing, om makking nowt wol  om wasting mi time here.

STUBBIN: Insolent fellow, speaking to me like that! I've a good mind not to let you have any more work.

SOL: If tha dosn't, ol gooa straight to Mr. Ogden aba'a it, ye nivver treeat me wi' common civility.

STUBBIN: I am in authority here, and so long as I remain my orders  will have to be carried  out.

SOL: Let's hev mi pay, then, an' ol be gooin'. If tha can not let ma hev wark, aw can get it somewheear else, an' wi' less " bates " ner aw get here.

STUBBIN: I'll throw this piece at your head if you speak to me like that. (Weighing the cloth, also the waste). I will make out your account, which is seven shillings and sixpence. Put your cross in the space left, just here where my finger is.

SOL (making the cross): Aw nobbut wish aw could read an write, ye'd net hev ta treeat ma hez ya do.

STUBBIN: If you wasn't an old man, I'd kick you out of the room at once, dirty wretch that you are, casting your insinuations, but I'll pay you and let you be going—your room I prefer to your company. Seven and sixpence you signed for, two shillings off for faulty places, and sixpence allowance for excessive waste, here is five shillings, which is more than you deserve.   I've finished  with you now,   good day.

SOL: But yo owt ta pay ma two shillings extra, het steead o' takking off, ye didn't weigh ma enough weft when aw started that last warp, ov hed ta give two shillings for a pund o' weft ta Pinder, in order ta fell t' warp, an' naah ye're bateing ma, hez ye do ivvery time—it's robbery!


STUBBIN: Off you go, and no more insults; your next lot
of warp and weft is in the other room, weighed ready for you. Pinder will get them for you. (Exit Sol Watson.) If it wasn't for the fines I extort from such as Sol Watson I wouldn't stay at Gillbeck Mill another day. It might be a little cowardly to do it on an old man, who is considered the best workman in the parish; we have never any trouble with his goods. But his lack of education helps me, he cannot even write his own name, and my motto is, " Get hold where you can." (Enter Pinder.). PINDER: Hev aw ta send Luke Driver in? STUBBIN:. Yes,  send  him   in.      (Exit  Pinder).

(Enter  Luke   Driver.)

LUKE: Ov brought ya two pieces,  an' aw want pay for 'em. STUBBIN:   That   will   depend   upon   whether   they   are   right or not.

LUKE:  It u'll   depend o' fiddlesticks!

STUBBIN: What is that you are saying, Luke Do you know  who  you  are speaking  to?

LUKE: Here is t' cloth, look it hez ya like, ye'll net finnd monny wovven  better,  even   i'   ya'ar looms.

STUBBIN (looking over pieces, pointing out occasional faults): Not Quite so bad as the last you delivered, but a long way from perfect; your waste also is excessive. Sign for the 15/-, make your cross here, and then we will arrange for the allowances.

LUKE: Aw sal sign for newt until ov getten hod. It hel hev ta bes " bird i' th' hand" this time; aw cannot exist with bit ye give ma for mi  wark.

STUBBIN: What do you mean? Have I not always paid you for work done? Why do you come here suggesting that I have not treated you right?

LUKE: Ye payed ma 4/6 last time, i' th' place o' 7/6, do ya call that treeating ma reight? An' ye're talking abaat takking some moor off this time.   Ye arn't ba'an ta  do it quietly.

STUBBIN: One would think you was the master here, from the manner in which you address me. You sign this book; the allowances will be 2/6, and then I will hand you over your due,  12/6

LUKE: Oo told ya, aw shan't do it; enter it for 19/-, hand ower t' money first, then ol sign it. If ya wiln't do that, then ol see t' boss aba'at it. Aw know what om talking aba'at, an' it hel be as mich hez yer shop ta refuse ma.

STUBBIN: I don't know what you mean, you cheeky fellow. I've a good mind ta put you outside, and pay you nothing.

LUKE: Put me aughtside will ya5 Aw should like ta see ya try it on. Ye might be better ner me het figures, but aw think om  yer equal  wi'  t'  fists,   which  ye'll  finud   aght if ye'"e not careful. Ye gave me 7 lbs. o' weft for each piece het steead o' 8 lbs. This ye're done lots o' times, an' kept t'other for yerself, an' we've hed ta buy it back off Pinder, buy back hez oan weft. Ye've been pocketing hez mich aght o' defrauding as hez we've hed for weeaving pieces, sooa mak' my book aght for 19/- if tha doesn't want exposing.

STUBBIN: If I hear another word about this business, I'll make you prove your words. I'm in two minds whether to let you leave this room or put you in the hands of the constable. I certainly shall if I hear of you uttering a- sentence to anyone. I will have you locked up for charging me with theft. I will pay you to the full this time, namely, 15/-, hut mind you, a scene like  this  must not  occur  again.

LUKE: Om sorry it's upset ya, but aw want fair deealings, an' aw beg yer pardon if ov been mistaen. (Signing for the 15/-).      (Exit Luke).

STUBBIN: These people are more cute than I imagined. I shall have to be more careful in the future, or I shall be in trouble one of these days.

ACT I.—Scene 2.
WOOD   SCENE. (Seth Ogden meets Dowshaw.)

SETH:   Hello!  Dowshaw,  and  how is  the  world  using   you?

DOW: Oh! up ta t' knocker, an' wheear are ya for this morn­ing, boss. Ye know, het if aw dunnot get ta know mich, it isn't for t' sake o' asking. Aw thought ye were happen gooin" up Looin Ends  way.

SETH: And why should I be going in that direction, I wonder.

DOW: Nay, ye ought ta know better ner me, but aw thought ye happen wanted to see Grace Bell, net ov ivver seen ye to­gether, but birds mooastly pike abaat a bush awhile befoor they start bigging ther nest. But ol tell ya this, if it's true what aw suspect (an' ther isn't monny cooarters but what aw knaw abaat), but Jim Stubbin hez his weather eye on Grace Bell.

SETH: Well, and what if all you say is true? You know the old saying,   'Faint heart never won—"

DOW: I, but ye can't booath win, that's wheear't puts th' helter on.

SETH: You appear to be well versea on this subject, Dow­shaw: do you wish to give me advice?

DOW: It's a. subject het's nivver bothered me, well net a big lot, nobbut wheear other fowk's concerned, or bits o' fiames occasionally, but ov nivver gooan sooa far hez ta walk aght wi' a girl yet. But as far as aw can mak' aght, love it's summat like winnd, ye cannot see it, ye can't help it coming, an' ye can't help it gooing, nobbut ye know when ya hev it.

SETH: That is a capital definition, Dowshaw, but don't you bother your head about me. I think I am able to manage my own affairs—in  that  direction,  anyhow.

DOW: I, but it tak's two ta manage a job like that. it doesn't matter haad ya love, if t' girl  turns  cold shoulder.

SETH:  Quite so, Dowshaw.

DOW: But om forgetting missel; what aw wanted ta ask ya wor,   abaat   parcels  er   bundles.      Do  you   know  whether  there is onny ta call for het Gillbeck Mill. Ye know aw ollus try ta mak'   business  an'  pleasure  fit  in.

SETH: I think so, but just look in if you are going Gillbeck way, and  ask  Jim  Stubbin.

DOW: Eight, Mr. Seth, ol call in, keep yer pluck up, an' doon't get blues ower a wench.     (Exit Dowshaw).

SETH: There must be some truth in Jim Stubbin casting his longing looks in the same direction as I am. I am not of a jealous nature, yet I have my fears about Jim. I could confide in him once of a day, that is why he holds a responsible position at Gillbeck Mill. I have trusted him as my own brother. Have I been mistaken? Many things have happened recently which have aroused my suspicion; not that I fear his love for Miss Bell, but I have my doubts about his honesty at the mill. I leave all the management in his hands: am I wise? Trade is good, the business is in a flourishing condition, yet my balance sheet last year was very disappointing. The more I think about it, the more convinced is my belief that he is dishonest—dishonest, did I say? I scarcely dare utter the word, even to myself. But I must face it. The books shall be . thoroughly looked up. I will trust nobody, but do the job my­self. If I find them right—which I should like to—then the sooner I get out of the business the better, if it is not leaving a profit. If he has tampered with the books and used the firm's money for his own purposes, then go he must—though he looks upon himself as indispensable. In the end wrong-doers are brought to justice, and right is ever triumphant.

ACT I.—Scene 3.

ROOM   SCENE. (Scene—Warler  Farm.      Furnished   as   Farm  Cottage.)

HARRY BELL: Na'ah lass, sit tha daan a bit. Arta nivver ba'an ta leearn sense ta tak' care o' thissel? Thar't nooan hez young hez tha used ta be, an' it's time tha took things a bit  easier.

HANNAH BELL: It's all reight talking, all men are alike, but it's a true saying het " Women's wark is nivver done.' Haah can aw sit ma da'an, when aw can see all sorts o' jobs staring ma i' th' face?

HARRY: Tha can save a few job for a'ar Grace to do when sho comes hooam.

HANNAH: A'ar Grace hel hev plenty ta do playing t' piano an' dooin' her fancy wark. Tha wod hev her sent ta t' skooil, an' eddicated, an' tha's getten thi way. Net het aw rue, but monny  a. lass,  if they'd  hed chance  sho's hed,  hed be  stuck-up.

HARRY: I, but they can nooabody say that aba'at a'are Grace. Sho'll help me ta milk er owt, onnytime, if aw want to set off.

HANNAH: Thar't reight, Harry, shoo's a lass ta be praad on, but sho's all we hev, an' happen spoil her a bit. Aw knaw sho'd do t'wark, but aw expect om like most o' mothers, od rayther do it missel.

HARRY: I, use th' owd en up first, tha thinks if tha doesn't
do t' wark thissel it can't be done reight. But wheear is a'ar Grace?

HANNaH: Sho's gooan ta t' Looin Ends to a, practice. They're practising for t' charity; there wer ba'an ta be V fiddlers theear ta-neet. Aw believe this is her coming across t' lang field; aw mun get tided up a bit. (Commences putting all straight).


HARRY: It doesn't want lang het charity, does it? An
then it's clooice on haytime. Ye can fair see t' meadows alter­ing; they're ba'an ta be forrard this yeear.


HANNAH: Aw expect ye're looking aght for getting yer hay
in cheeap ageean, same hez ya did last year?


HARRY: I, Jim Stubbin gav hez a rare lift, an' Seth Ogden
com two or three times; altho' he runs a few looms an' owns Gillbeck Mills, he  worn't aboon helping  us  with hez  hay.


HANNAH: All tha looks at is getting summat for nowt.
Does ta think they come here a purpose ta give us a lift wi' V hay? It's easy ta throw sand i' thy eyes; they'd a' come nooan here but a'ar Grace.

HARRY: Tha dooesn't meean ta say Grace hez a sweetheart?


HANNAH: If sho hasn't, sho could hev, wi' putting up her little finger; they'se ollus somebody hinging aba'at after her—
but tha'd nivver nooatice nowt, unless it hed fower legs on, then tha'd talk an ha'ar ower its good points an' bad ens. But thi oan  lass, tha seems ta think we can keep her for ivver.


HARRY: Tha caps ma, lass, but we'se hev ta change
V
subject,  sho's just landing  t'  fowd  gate.       (Enter  Grace  Bell).


HANNAH: Ye've a fearful red face, Grace, hev ya been
hurrying?


GRACE: No, I have not, mother, but it puts colour into
cheeks  having   a  walk  on  a   night  like  this.

HANNAH: Hev ya bed company back fra t' Looin Ends?

GRACE: Not particular, only a Cowling man who is play­ing the violin at our Anniversary. He came with me down the  lane,   but we   did  not  hurry.

HANNAH:   Did  you   know  him,   Grace?

GRACE: Of course, mother. It was Seth Ogden. We just happened to come out of the chapel together, so he came down with me as far as High Gate.

HARRY:  Were they nooa lasses coming this way?


GRACE: Yes-but why all this fuss because I preferred com­
ing   down   with   Mr.   Ogden   to   coining   down   by   myself?


HARRY : An' what wil't nabours say if they've seen ya come
da'an looin together?


GRACE: Why, dad, what can they say, only that we are a
likely  couple.


HARRY: Thi' mother an' me dursn't be seen walking aght
i' th' daytime when we'd been cooarting twelve months. Young fowks hev nooa modesty het this day.


GRACE: Do you say that as a compliment, father? If I
read my Bible aright, it says: " Men love darkness better than light because their deeds are evil." If any young man is ashamed of walking out with me in the daytime, he will not get the chance of walking out with me after dark—that is my gospel, father.


HARRY: Well, maybe ye're reight, things hev altered since
a're young days. Oo been heearing a whisper het Seth Ogden is sweet on  ya,  is that  sooa?


GRACE: How should I know? I did not ask him, it would
have  been  impertinent.

HARRY: Well, ye might do war ner tak' on wi' Seth Ogden, Jim   Stubbin   either,   for   that   matter.
 

GRACE: Do not couple my name with Jim Stubbin's; he, at least, is not the type of man to suit me.

HANNAH: Yer father thinks ye ought to accept him for yer sweetheart becos he helped a bit wi' th' hay last summer —that's abaat hez far hez a man looks.

HARRY: Well, aw can say this aba'at him, he's a good worker i' th' hayfleld, an' that's spot for trying 'em up, what they're made on; but it's nooa use me talking. Aw can see which way t' wind blows.

GRACE:  It's  soon enough  to  discuss  a  suitor  when one turns up.     Sit you still, mother, and I will prepare supper.

ACT I.—Scene 4.

WOOD  SCENE.

(Enter   Jim   Dowshaw   and   Jack   Harding,  from   opposite   sides,

Harding,  laughing  with  all  his  might,  collides  with  Dowshaw,

who is carrying a basket of eggs.)

DOW:   Tha   girt   whacky,   can't  ta   see   wheear   thar't   gooin?

HAR. (rubbing his head): Now, but aw could feel wheear od getten too, when tha stopped ma.

DOW: Tha'll get off varry weel if tha's nooa damages ta pay for   this   lot.

HAR.   (again   rubbing   his   head):   Aw   think  it's   missel  het

DOW: Thy brains er net sooa neear t' top, Harding, aw hel hev ta claim damages. That knock feels ta hev affected mi brain,   aw   could   see   stars—

fancy they dooan't tak' up mich ra'am, but dos ta know ov two sittings o' black Minorca eggs i', this basket, an' aw gat strict orders  aw  hed   ta  carry  'em  steady  hes  clockwark.

HAR.: Thor't nooan ba'an  ta sit 'em thissel,  arta?

DOW:   Om  nooan  a  clocker.

HAR.:  Tha  doesn't understand ma.   Are th'  eggs thine?

DOW: Now, aw sudn't 'a been hes particular, but they arn't mi oan, they're for Jim Stubbin, an' they'll be a bonny shine  if  they'se  onny   damaged.

HAR.:  For Jim Stubbin,  are they?

DOW: They are, an' aw can't do wi' crossing Jim, ov partly ta  depend  o'  t'   carrying  fra  Gillbeck Mill  for  a  living.

HAR.: What says ta if we look inta t' basket an' Bee what's brokken ?

DOW: Nay, let 'em alooan, if they're brokken, nawther thee ner me can mend 'em—

HAR.: I, tha'll hev ta risk it, hez woman said when shoo gat  wed.

DOW: I, it's all reight me takking t' risk, but it wer' thee
het broke 'em, if they are brokken; they'll be a lot cracked,
onnyhaah.                                                                                  

HAR.: Let's tee a piece o' band ra'and t' basket, then he'll happen net look at 'em wol ye've livered 'em an' getten paid for bringing 'em.

DOW:  It's  easy  planning  when tha  hasn't it ta  face  up.

HAR: That cud nobbut say sooa if od done it a' purpose.

DOW:   Tak'   hod  o'  t'  basket  wol  aw  put this  band  around.

HAR. (Holding out the basket by the handle. Dow give? a sharp pull, plucking the basket out of his hand, eggs on to the floor):  Nor then!   Tha's gooan an done it.

DOW: It's thee hets done it. Aw tell'd tha ta tak' hod o' t'  basket.

HAR.: Aw hed hod on it, wol tha pulled it aght o' mi hand.

DOW:  Aw nivver  touched basket,  od had  a'  nowt but band

HAR.: I, but ye pulled hez if it wer a cart rooap.

DOW: An' ye held it hez it' it wor a piece o' cake ye werr tooasting.

HAR.: I, lig it o' me.

DOW:  Whativver mun aw do naah?

HAR.: Best way hed be ta get basket ta Jim Stubbin hez sooin hez tha can.

DOW: It's all reight tha saying that, but what abaat eggs (examining basket). Aw dooan't care if now't runs thro'; they put midding o' hay i' t' bottom.

HAR.: Tha mun tak* 'em to him het mill, when he's reight thrang.

DOW: Tha's nooa need ta tell me what ta do, Harding, ov nooan lost mi wits yet—they've getten ma aght o' monny a, scrape, an' ol net stick fast wi' this job, an' om nooan ba'an ta bother aba'at t' eggs. They're all here (holding up the basket), ov  ta'en  nooan  on  'em.

HAR.:   Ye'll net tell him ye've hed an accident.


DOW: Now—he'll finnd that aght sooin enough. Sooa good-day,   Harding.

HAR.: Good-day, Dowshaw, it's rayther hard o' Jim Stubbin. It'll be a feather i' thi cap if that gets  one in on him.

DOW: Om flayed Jim Stubbin hel nivver see owt wi' feathers on aght o' this lot.       (Exit.)

ACT I.—Scene 5.

OFFICE—GILLBECK  MILL. (Seth Ogden adding columns up in the ledger.)

OGDEN: Here I have been occupied for above a week, every spare moment I could get, adding up column after column in this ledger, finding mistake after mistake, one long list of monies supposed to have been paid out, and several of these I have been interviewing to-day, and have found out they have not been paid a single penny. Whom can I suspect but Jim Stubbin? Nobody else has access to the books, except myself. It might possibly be someone else; it is not right to put the blame on anyone until I can prove it. But prove it I will—but I must leave the office before Jim Stubbin arrives, or he may suspect my investigations (locking up the ledger in safe). (Exit Seth Ogden).

(Enter  Pinder, whistling,  and  commences  to  tidy  up  the office,  and dusts.)

PINDER:  Hard  work, this—

Rubbing,  rubbing,  rubbing, All ta  suit Jim Stubbin.

That rhymes a bit, it hits on champion. Aw sud be hez con­tent hez a king if od aba'at hez mich ageean wage. But om ba'an ta leeave this shop, if ther' isn't an alteration. Aw get  fower bob  a   wick.      Is  ther'   onny  sense   in  it,   a  full-timer het that. Me a growing lad, an' aw ammot hauf keeping missel. Here aw am, doing all sooarts o' meean tricks 'for Jim Stubbin, het aw dooan't think t' maister knows owt aba'at. But ol tell him om ba'an ta ask Mr. Ogden for a rise, an' ol awther hev moor er ol leeave—that's what mi mother said aw hed ta do.
(Enter   Jim   Stubbin.       Pinder    commences    dusting    furiously.)

STUBBIN: Why can't you get the office tidied before I come, lazy  bones?

PINDER: Aw happen  do hez mich hez aw get payed  for.


STUBBIN: What's that you say, you impertinent brat? (Gives him  a  kick).

PINDER: It hed mak' onnybody " perchant," wages ye pay me.     Aw want ta know when ye're ba'an ta giv' ma a rise?

STUBBIN:   Not until  you learn  to be civil.

PINDER: Well ol see what Mr. Ogden says. He hez ma ta pay, an' ol tell him what wark aw hev ta do, what wi' weigh­ing aght for hand-loom weyvers, an' sich like. Aw knaw what they sud hev an' what ye've ordered ma ta weigh 'em aght. Aw hev t' book ye tell'd ma ta get, to put all t' particulars da'an in. Ol show him that, . an' ax him if he thinks fower bob's plenty   for  a  book-keeper.

STUBBIN: Go to your work, without another word, or I'll kick you there—and bring that book to me. You shall no longer  call yourself a book-keeper.

PINDER:  If aw  dooan't get a rise this  wick,  om leeaving.

STUBBIN: Go, this minute, I say!

PINDER: Say ye'll giv' ma five bob het week-end, an' then ol gooa.

STUBBIN: You lazy little rascal! (Kicking him out) Away you go. (Exit Pinder). I don't know how it is, things don't sail on as smoothly as they did. I must get the book from the little wretch of a Pinder, or it might cause t can't understand Mr. Ogden, he has been in the office at all  hours lately. I am afraid it is getting too warm for me; or  my suspicious might be groundless If the worst comes, Jim  Stubbin has brains and knows how to use them. But I must  play a careful game—" Trust nobody." that is my motto. Things  have gone too far; it is too late to draw back. I cannot refund  the money. Bad speculation forced me to do it, thinking T  could soon pay it back, but every day I get things more entangled tangled. But I must go through with it now, sink or swim.  Have I not made Gillbeck Mill what it is? Have I not helped to make the money? I'll fight the lot! I will let them see Jim Stubbin is a man who can stand his corner against all that Seth  Ogden  or anybody else  can do.

PINDER:  Jim  Dowshaw wishes ta  see  ya.

STUBBIN:   What  does   he   want?      Send  him  in.

DOW (to Pinder): Ya little rag-a-muffin'! What are ya tryin' on, kicking my basket, after me carrying sooa far! An' if they'se owt damaged, aw dooan't want it liging a' me, does ta heear that?

PINDER: Aw didn't know od touched yer basket.

STUBBIN: You are making plenty of noise, Dowshaw, what's up?

DOW: That Pinder gav' mi basket a good kick hez aw wer' coming in, er else it wer' t' door he banged to sharply. Om flayed it hel hev done theease eggs nooa good.

STUBBIN: Many a worse job than breaking a few eggs. Dowshaw    They  are  very  cheap  at  present.

DOW: I, but that mak's job nooa better. Aw wodn't a cared if they'd been mi  oan.

STUBBIN:   They're   not   your   own,   then?

DOW: Now, they're ya'ars; they're two sittings o' eggs oo brought ya fra Warier Farm, sooa ol put 'em under t' table, an' then they'll nooabody put the'r feet into 'em.

STUBBIN:   Mine,   are  they?   They  are  tied  up,  I  see.

DOW: They'll be better if they arn't disturbed wol ya get 'em hooam, but aw sal hev ta be gooin', om in a desperate hurry.

STUBBIN: I should like you to put them under the hens for me.

DOW: Om sorry aw cannot oblige ya, this time, Mr. Stubbin,
but aw want ta get back hez sooin hez aw can.

STUBBIN: I shall have to excuse you this time, Dowshaw; but  what are  damages?

DOW: Damages—damages—Whooa says—? Oh! ye meean ha'ah mich do aw want for bringing 'em: well aw think aw desarve  threepence.

STUBBIN:   Here  you   are,   then   (handing  him  money). (Enter Emma Martin,  with  a piece.)

EMMA:   Halloa!   Dowshaw,   hev   ya   getten   some   looms?

DOW: Now, but ov getten th' heeadwark, an' aw sal hev ta be gooing, om in a hurry. Ol hev a chat wi' ya when ov moor  time,  an'  when they'se  uooabody  aba'at.

EMMA: Tha must hev summat important on when tha hurries away fra my company.      (Exit Dowshaw).

 

EMMA (aside): Aw can't tell what's up wi' Dowshaw ta-day ; ol pay him aght for this' yet. (Takes her piece to Jim Stubbin). Put me this da'an for this wick, Jim; it's third off this loom, an'  ye havn't mich bother wi'   my pieces  after  ov  livered   'em.

STUBBIN: You're a good weaver, and a good earner, Emma, and you will make somebody a good wife, whoever the lucky person  is.

EMMA: Well, aw hooap sooa: aw shall do mi best, an' if ivverybody  did that, they'd be  a better gooin' on  i' th' world.

STUBBIN: You are one of the right sort, Emma, Your rosy cheeks and your cherry  lips  are a temptation   even to me

EMMA: They've nooa need ta be; ye've nooa need ta think om setting mi cap at you, aw ammot.

STUBBIN: There's no harm in a few compliments, Emma.

EMMA: Now, aw dooan't knaw het ther' is, but it isn't ivverybody het can stand 'em. Thar't nooan an angel, Jim an' tha's flirted enough i' thi time, an' if that bait's meant ta catch me, tha'd better fish in  another  streeam.

STUBBIN: One would think you were related to royalty by   the   attitude   you  take.

EMMA: Tha can jooak, Stubbin, but aw wodn't walk aght wi' nooabody unless aw thought he wor i' love wi' ma; crack that nut, Jim, an' dooan't be throwing hints agnt ta me an' het same time makking love ta Grace Bell. Dooan't you think het aw  know nowt  aba'at  it.

STUBBIN: Think no more about it.     I was only joking.

EMMA: I, turn it off that way, if ya like, aw ammot hex soft hez ya thowt aw wor. If ye've entered up, ol get back ta mi   wark.    (Exit   Emma   Martin)  

 

PINDER: Didn't aw tell ya aw wanted moor wage, an' that book's mine,  aw  paid for  it misself,  an'  aw  shall  hand  it ower ta   Mr.   Ogden   when   aw  leeave  het   wick-end—

STUBBIN: You'll do nothing of the kind. I'll half kill yon
if you don't tell me where it is. (Pinder runs off; Stubbin catches him with his foot).

(Enter   Pinder   gingerly,   rubbing   his   side.)

PINDER: They'se Sol Watson and Luke Driver come for some weft ta fell aght wi', an' they say they arn't baan ta pay for t.

STUBBIN :  Send them here at once.

(Enter  Sol Watson  and  Luke  Driver.)
STUBBIN:   What  is  this  threat  you  have  made   to   Pinder? (Neither  of them  speak;  they  look  from  one  to  the  other).

STUBBIN: Can't you  answer me?

LUKE: Well, it's this—ye gav' Pinder orders ta weigh hez 15 lbs. o' weft, an' ye knaw we can't get hez warps aght with it. Pinder kept some back wi' ya'ar instructions, soo'as we should come an' buy it when we ran short, an' we refuse ta do it.      Isn't  that  sooa,   Sol?

SOL: It is.

STUBBINS:  Refuse to do it,  do you?

SOL.: We can't keep body an' soul tagether, way ye're treeating us.

STUBBIN: You'll have to buy it—you have either wasted it or sold it. And if your cloth is not full length when it comes in, then you pay for the warp as well, so now I have done with  you.

LUKE: Well, we can but pine, but we've an idea ye're pocketing   this   extra   money.

(Stubbin   seizes  Luke,   shoving   him   towards   the   door.)

STUBBIN: Get out, you ugly brutes, with your slanderous suggestions! Let me see you no more at Gillbeck Mill, as long, as I stay. I have to find you with work; who else will take in handloom goods? You ought to starve, it will do you good, coming with your paltry trumped-up affairs and making me out to be dishonest. Clear off! You either buy the yarn, or stand the consequences.

ACT II.—Scene 1.

SCENE—WARLER FARM.
 

GRACE BELL: I wonder how it is we girls, who live in a happy home, and have good, kind parents, who are always trying to please us, sacrificing almost everything to add to our comfort, and yet we are not content. We pine for a root of our own, a place where we are the head, a home to beautify, a place, be it a palace or cottage, where we can say, "This is my home." It must be an instinct with us. And whenever T sit musing, I picture a happy home, with Seth Ogden as an ideal husband. Yet Jim

Stubbin keeps bothering me. For him
I have no love or respect. If I cannot marry Seth Ogden, I will remain as I am; there is no fickleness about my love, and if I cannot obtain the desire of my heart, I will remain at Warier Farm. Trouble, naturally, will come, but they are easier to bear with  those  we love at our side.

(Knock at the door; enter Seth Ogden.)

SETH: Good evening, Miss Bell. I am pleased to find, you alone.

GRACE: Good evening, Mr. Ogden.     Pray be seated

SETH:   Is   your  father  and  mother  away?

 

15

GRACE: Yes, they have gone to Colne, and I do not expect them back just yet, and I shall be glad of your company if you are wishful to stay?

SETH: Who would ask a question like that, when oppor
tunity has favoured me beyond expectations.

GRACE:  Why,  whatever   do  you mean,  Mr.  Ogden?

SETH: Do not call me Mr. Ogden; call me Seth, we are no' strangers, and I hope we are nearer to each other than ordinary friends.

GRACE: You make me blush.
SETH: I have sought this opportunity long enough. You know how I love you, and have done for years; you must have known it, Grace, and I have thought you reciprocated my love I have seen the love-light in your eye, and to call you my own dearest Grace is the utmost wish of my heart.

GRACE: You do me great honour, but—

SETH: Do not let us have any buts, but just a confession of your heart. Your name is sweeter to me than music, and you know what a love I have for that; in fact, I sometimes burst into song, and sing, " Grace, 'tis a charming sound, harmonious in my ear." Do you love me a little, can you give me hope? My future without you by my side would be hopeless, and   loveless.

GRACE: My love is already yours, Seth. I have always pictured you as my husband, but father and mother must be considered; they are getting on in years and need all the assistance I  can  give them.

SETH: Your parents shall be cared for; instead of having an   only   daughter,  they  will  also  possess   a  son.

GRACE: You have made me so happy, Seth, yet beneath it all there is a sadness in thinking that some time in the near future I shall have to leave Warier Farm, the home of my birth

SETH: "Don't meet your troubles until they arrive," is a maxim we may safely follow (removing his chair quite near to Grace, and taking her hand in his).
Darling, to think you are all my own. One look into your sweet eyes chases away all the cares and trouble and worries of business.

GRACE: I am glad you love me so much. My songs and my dreams, as I go about the farm, will add sweetness to my duties, and the golden days, until you claim me for your own, will pass in one long psalm of praise

SETH (putting his arm around her): Let our first kiss be on this eventful and most memorable of all days    (kissing her).

GRACE: Now, be sensible, Seth. I believe this is father and mother just arriving.

SETH:  You must be  quick of hearing

GRACE: It is your thoughts that are wool-gathering; you are excited.

SETH:  Not excited—overjoyed,  delighted! (Enter  Mr.   and  Mrs.   Bell.)

SETH:   Good evening,  Mr. and  Mrs.  Bell.

HARRY: Good evening, Seth; we're pleeased ta see ya Hev ya been here some time?

SETH: Maybe I have, but it does not look more than five minutes since I came in.

HANNAH:  A'ar  Grace must  hev  been  entertaining  ya  well

SETH: She has been very entertaining, Mrs. Bell.

HARRY: Well, ol gooa an' loose th' horse aght: ye'll hap­pen be here when   aw come back.      (Exit).

GRACE:  Yes,  dad, he is staying to  supper.

HANNAH: Of course you'll stop ta supper, Seth?

SETH: I cannot refuse the kind invitation from yourself and your lovely daughter.   I want to—

HANNAH: Aw know what's coming, witha'at ya telling ma.
It didn't tak' me long ta finnd a'at what wer't matter wi' ya. Aw could see it i' yer eyes, an' when aw saw them two chairs sa near together, well—ov been young missel once, an' aw known time when Harry an' me's made one chair do (shaking hands with Seth). An' aw willingly give my consent, an' aw wish ya ivvery happiness, an' aw hooap yer happy together an' do weel.

SETH: Thank you, Mrs. Bell Let me say I appreciate the confidence you place in me, and I hope you will never have reason  to doubt the faith you repose in me.

GRACE:. Let   me   thank   you,   mother,   for   your   kind   words (hold of Seth's arm)  and compliments to my  intended husband. (Enter Harry Bell.)

HANNAH: Have you heard the news, dad?

HARRY: Now, they'se net a ca'ah deead, is  ther'?

HANNAH: Ca'ah deead! Tha's nivver nowt i' thi heead but be'eas. Does ta think we'st 'a been looking sooa happy
if they'd been a ca'ah deead?

HARRY: Well, we've been away a bit, an' they'se nooa tell ing what could have happened.

SETH: I've won the heart of your beautiful daughter to-night

HARRY: Om glad het cattle are all reight. Well aw wish ya weel. A'ar Grace is a good lass, an' we dooan't, want ta looyse her. But ov nowt .wrang ta say aba'at ye Seth ; ov nooa da'at ye'll mak' her a good husband, an' aw expect if ye didn't get her somebody else wod.

GRACE: I am not going to leave you yet, dad, so do not get upset about it. Seth is going to bring his violin up some night, and we are going to have a concert and a right jolly evening together.

HARRY: That's right, lass, an ov a job or two aw should like a bit o' help with, when yo've a bit o' time, Seth.

SETH: Right, Mr. Bell. I shall soon be up at Warier Farm again.

GRACE: But I must prepare supper; you will be hungry after driving from Colne.

ACT II.—Scene 2.

WOOD   SCENE. (Jack   Harden  meets   Mally  Watson.)

HARDEN (laughing loudly to himself): Hallow! Mally, od nivver seen ya.

MALLY: Tha seemed ower ta'en on wi' thissel ta see me What wor  ta  giggling aba'at?

HARDEN:  Oh, nowt, Mally.

MALLY: Now't, wor ta! Do's ta know they tak' 'em ta one het Gover'ment big ha'arses when they do like that? Hez a seen  owt ov  a'ar Mary lad aba'at?

HARDEN: Do's ta meean Pinder? Now, aw havn't seen him ta-day paid ma, he said od ta talk matter ower wi' you, an' mi place hed remain oppen anoth .• wick, at same wage, if aw were willing  ta  come  back.

MRS.   PINDER:   What  did  ta  say  ta  that?

PINDER: Aw said—" Ye tak' yer oan course, an' ol do t' same." Soa aw went to Mr. Ogden an' told him od finished, an' he wanted ta knaw why aw were giving up. Soa aw tell'd him it were becos aw couldn't g moor wage, an' he wanted ta_ know  ha'ah  mich   aw were   getting.

MRS. PINDER: An' didn't Mr. Ogden know what he wor paying  his   men?

PINDER: Of course he did! He knew what aw should be getting. But aw could see summat hed upset him; he red­dened up aba'at neck, an' sent for Jim Stubbin. They hed a few words i' private—sud 'a been private, but they booath lost the'r temper, an' a bonny row they wor for a bit, an' they talked  sooa la'ad wol  aw could tell ivvery word they said.

MRS.  PINDER:   Aw hooap  ye  were  civil  ta  Mr.  Ogden?

PINDER: It appear boss hed instructed Stubbin ta pay ma six shilling a week three months since, an' he said he didn't know but what he hed done, as there was six shillings entered '   th'  books.

MRS. PINDER: He wanted felling on t'at floor when he said it,   big   storyteller!

PINDER: He said it had been overlooked; he must have payed ma the wages od been getting all along, fra force o' habit.

MRS. PINDER: He wodn't pay nooabody ta mich fra force o'  habit—it's  all  humbug!

PINDER: Sooa ov drawn three months' pay at 2/- a week, an' six bob this week—aw ought ta hev esquire het end o' mi name.

MRS. PINDER: That's good news, Bob, tha'll cap somebody yet. Here, ol giv' tha a penny ta do what tha likes with, an' tha can gooa da'an into t' village ta-neet an' spend it, if tha wants, tho' aw dooan't like ta encourage ya ta spend money fooilishly.

PINDER:   Thank ya,   mother,   ye've  nooa need  ta  rear mo being   a   spendthrift.   Ol   hev   a   good   look   araand   before    aw spend it—happen buy ya a present with it.      (Exit Pinder). /(Enter   Mally   Watson.)

MRS.  PINDER:   Hallow,  mother,  come  an'  sit da'an  ah  bit.

MALLY: Aw mooan't stop, aw thowt od call an' see if Pinder  browt ya  his wage  all  reight.

MRS.   PINDER:   Ye  didn't  think  he'd  spend  it,  did  ya?

MALLY: Now, but awwer' that suited, "wal aw could hardly believe  it.

MRS.   PINDER:   Ye know aba'at him  stopping on,  then?

MALLY: I, aw met him coming hooam. Aw think Pinder {excuse ma calling on him Pinder, aw know ye'd rayther aw called him Bob) he'l mak' weel aght yet; it isn't ivverybody het can read an' write like ya'ar Pin—aw meean Bob.

MRS. PINDER: We've tried ta eddicate him, an' he's been determined he'd maister it. We hadn't chance when we were young.      He's a  bit  rough,   but  he'l  alter hez  he  gets  owder.

MALLEY: Aw did send ya ta owd Betty German skooil, her wi' one arm, da'an i' th' village.

MRS. PINDER: Precious little sho leearnd ma, anole, but aw expect sho did her best; sho'd 'a done wi' another dip o' knowledge hersel.   An' what's moor useful ner a good eddication?

MALLY: They were nooa skooils when aw wer' a girl, bit aw did leearn were het Sunday skooil, an' aw dooan't consider missel  hez   ignorant hez  some  aba'at here.

MRS.   PINDER:   Do   ya   meean   Mary   Jones?

MALLY: Nay, aw meant nooabody i' particular. Naah when y3 mention Mary Jones, ye remind ma o' t' time when t' new parson com ta t' church, he went ra'and visiting all t' families i' t' neighbourhood, an' he called ta see, Mary Jones. He sat chatting wi' her for some time, then he axed her if sho ivver read her Bible. " Now," sho said, "Aw cannot read." " Cannot read? I'll sorry for you," says parson. Then he axed her if she knew t' Ten Commandments. Sho says, " Nay, aw nobbut know fower." " Very good, and what are they, my good woman?" Sho says, "They're North, South, East, an' West." That aba'at finished him off—he didn't ax her onny moor questions   on   Scripture.

MRS. PINDER: Well, mother, sho wer' moor ta be pitied ner  blamed.

MALLY: I, aw expect sho wor. Childer growing up na'ah hev a better chance ner ivver we hed, but still we ought ta be thankful for small mercies.     But wheear's Bob off to?

MRS.  PINDER:  Da'an inta t' village,  aw expect.

MALLY: Well, ol be gooin' na'ah, aw feel moor content aba'at ya'ar  Bob.      Good-day.

MRS.   PINDER:   Good-day,   mother.       It's   summat   ta   be
thankful for, an' ol get tidied up a bit, an'  wesh ma.

ACT II.—Scene 4.

SCENE-NEAR   GILLBECK   MILL.

(Pinder  enters,  carrying  a  form,    and  planting  it   down  underthe trees, whistling all the time, commences whittlingaway at a stick.)

PINDER: Om glad it's Saturday, an' a fine day. Ov browt this form fra by Gillbeck Mill; aw thowt od come under theease trees, wheear it were nice an' shady. Aw shall net be bothered wi' Jim Stubbin here, unless he catches ma wi this; form; but aw dooan't care a straw whether he comes er net. Om all black an' blue with his kicks, but wait wol aw get a bit bigger, then ol tak' it aght on him, that aw will. He pre­tends ta be ah swell, but it's all i' th' heead, that's swelled enough. Om trying ta mak' a bow, an' then om ba'an shooit-ing rabbits up Gillbeck. Dash it! This band's ta short Ov getten a tothry nice dogwood arrows. By, but t' midges do bite, om flayed os hev ta shift mi stall. Om ba'an ta wesh mi face i' th' beck. Ol leeave ml tackle here, they'll nooa­body tak'  it afoor aw come back.   (Exit Pinder).

(Emma Martin and Jim Dowshaw enter together.)

DOWSHAW: Let's sit da'an here ah bit, it's varra shady, an' it hel be a bit ov a rest. They'se somebody been varra good ta bring this  seeat here.

EMMA: Nay, om mun be getting hooam, ov nooan hez mich time  o  'mi hands hez  ye hev, Dowshaw.

DOWSHAW:   Now,   ye'll   nivver   stop   when   aw   want  ya. EMMA:   Ye   sud   say   summat,   Dowshaw.      Aw   saw   ya   het Gillbeck   Mill   t'other   day.      Aw   wanted   ah   chat   wi'   ya,   but now,  ye'd  nooa time.

DOWSHAW: Well od reeasons for net stopping that day, besides, there wer' somebody aba'at—an' they'se nooabody here nobbut  hez  two   selves.

EMMA:   What   difference   does  that  mak?

DOWSHAW: Aw might want ta say summat to ya het aw didn't  want  onnybody  else ta hear.

EMMA: Tha's nooa need ta tell mi thi sacrets. DOWSHAW:  Sit thi da'an an' be sensible, Emma—(sits down) —na'ah,  that's  somebit like.

EMMA: But what will fowks say if they come past an' see us sat together?

DOWSHAW:  They'll  say,   " Aw  believe  Dowshaw  and   Emma's-ba'an ta mak' a match on it yet."   (Emma attempting to rise.) Na'ah sit tha still, ov  summat important  ta  ask  ya. EMMA:  Do let me  go,  Dowshaw!

DOWSHAW: Aw shall say like Jacob of old, "Aw saln't let tha  gooa  except  tha bless  ma."

EMMA: Ye're net a bit like yersel ta-day— DOWSHAW: Now, ner aw saln't be wol ov getten this job owered wi'. Om ba'an ta mak' what royalty call a proposal; ov hed a tremelm' sensation for a lang while, ivvery time ov seen ya, an' ov been flayed aght o' mi wits het somebody else hed happen tep in afoor ma. Aw thowt od strike while th' iron wer' hot, hez it werr. Aw used ta think lasses were all varry mich alike, but na'ah ov fa'and aght het they'se nobbut one i' all t' world het's worth a second thowt, an' that's yer­sel, Emma. Aw think aba'at ya first thing in a morning, an' t' last thing het neet, yer i' mi mind all throo t' day, an' aw dreeam aba'at ya when om asleep, an' om thinking on ya in between, if ther' is onny; an' if aw thowt ye wodn't promise ta live wi' ma some day, well—mi heart hed breeak inta little bits. EMMA: An' what if aw dooan't love ya? DOWSHAW: Ye'd hev ta start leearnin', that's all! But mind ya,  Emma,  aw sal  nobbtit accept one  answer.

EMMA: It appears om ba'an ta hev varry little say i' t' matter.

DOWSHAW: Well, a chap can't help being selfish when he's
i'  love.     Aw dooan't want all mi  oan way.

EMMA: Tha wod do if that wanted mich moor. DOWSHAW:  Om willing  ta  trust  ta   Providence;   om  a   lucky chap,   aw   ollus   did   leet   o'   mi   feet,   except   once   when   aw   fell off t' haymoo—aw let a' mi heead that time.

EMMA:  Aw  expect   that's  reeason   why  it's  sa   soft. DOWSHAW:   Well,   we'll   cast   lots   whether   ye've   ta   marry me er somebody else,  an'  we'll stand by it—if—if—it turns  aght reight.

EMMA: An' ha'ah if t' lot gooas ageean ya? DOWSHOW:  We  can start afresh,  can't wa?     Ol  mak'  lots, an'  ye  draw.     If ye get lang en,  ye've  ta promise  ta  bi mi wife     If aw get lang en,  ol  promise ta  be  yer husband.      Ye wouldn't, hev nowt fairer ner that,  could ya?

EMMA: What's good o' drawing lots. Why, they'se sewer one of us hel get it. Throw thi lots away, if we can't settle this business in a straight way we'll let it alooan.

DOWSHAW: Well, we'll start afresh. Will ya promise ta
marry ma  sometime,  Emma?

EMMA: Aw will, Dowshaw, will that do? DOWSHAW:  Yer mind's made up, then, is it? EMMA:   Aw-   shouldn't   'a   said   sooa   if   it   worn't.      Arn't  ya .satisfied.

DOWSHAW:   Of   course   aw   am,   om   sa   suited   aw   dooan't know   what ta  do,   but aw ollus  thowt   ye'd  tak'   a lot o'  per­suading.     Aw ollus wor lucky, even  when aw used ta laik  het taws.   Bless tha, lass, aw think the world on ya!

EMMA:  If aw loved a girl, hez  fond hez ya pretend  ta  love me, od show it in a bit warmer way ner words.

DOWSHAW:  It's for want ov experience;   aw wer' flayed ye'd gooa if  aw put  mi  arms arr'and  ya  and'  kissed ya.

EMMA;   Aw   should   'a   thought   a   love   like   ya'ars   couldn't ah help't it.
(Preparing  to  kiss  her.     Enter  Pinder.)

PINDER:     Wat's   up,   Dowshaw—a'   an'   Miss   Martin,    aw   do declare!   (sitting   down   at  the   end   of  the   seat).(Dowshaw casts withering looks at Pinder.)

DOWSHAW   (snappy):  What do ye want here,  Pinder?
PINDER:  Dooan't ye want ma ta sit here?     Os nooan  sting ya if aw am sat by ya—an' yer sat on my arrows.

DOWSHAW:   Ye  could  see   aw  were  having   a   quiet  talk   to Miss Martin.

PINDER: Well, ye can gooa on wi' yer talking for me being here, aw  shan't  disturb  ya—but  it's happen  private? DOWSHAW: Of course it is. PINDER: Well, sooa is this form. DOWSHAW: What do ya meean?

PINDER: It's me hets  browt this form here, for mi oan use It isn't a grand-stand for cooarters.

EMMA: We humbly beg your pardon, Pinder. We did not know we were trespassing (rising to her feet). Let us be gooin', Dowshaw (making off in opposite direction to Pinder's entrance) DOWSHAW (turning back): Ov a good mind ta give tha ah good claut i' th' lugs! What did ta want coming interfering when tha saw hez i' clooise conversation? It's aba'at like tha, impident brat. Thar't ollus somewheear wheear tha sudn't be. PINDER: Ye can sit ya da'an on t' gra'and, can't ya? It's warm enough tar-day, an' t' next time ya come, bring a seeat o' yer oan. (Pinder sits arranging his bow a few seconds). It's noa use, om ba'an ta cleear off fra here, aw can't stand theease midges. Aw shall hev ta tak' this back ta Gillbeck Mill, er else aw shall hev Stubbin on mi track. (Exit Pinder, carrying   form).

ACT II.—Scene 5.

COTTAGE  AT   COBBLERSLIDE.
(Sol   Watson   at   work  hand-loom   weaving,   candle  lighted   over the  loom,   Sol  with   paper  cap   on,   and   bobbin   wheel on the  other  side.)

SOL: It's good to be alive, hez lang hez ov plenty o' wark, ov addled a deeal moor since aw left Gillbeck Mill, an' ov been a deeal more content. It were nice an' handy, were Gilbeck Mill, if Jim Stubbin hed nobbut ha' treeated ma hez he ought to  ha'   done,  os't  'a  been  theear   yet.      Seth   Ogden's   to   good-natured, er else he'd 'a secked him lang since. Let them hev the'r pa'ar looms het wants 'em, stuffed up in a weyving shop all t' day. They hev the'r regular ha'ars, an' nooa matter ha'ah t' sun shine, they-ve to stop het the'r wark. But give me a free life, mi oan hand-loom, an spinning-wheel. Let me be free ta break off when aw want, an tak' advantage ov all the beauties of Nature, even if ov ta toil throo t' neet to mak' up for it. It's a bit disagreeable het times heving ta size yer warps i' th' ha'ase, but it hez its compensations. What could a body wish for better ner getting up sooin in a morning, when sun is shining, an' t' air hez pure hez ye cud wish it, an' throwing windows wide oppen an' start weeaving away, wi' t' throstles an' t' larks singing ta t' music het loom, an' t' cuckoo calling for all het it's worth—that's the kind o' life aw enjoy. What can a man wish for moor ner ta drink in an' enjoy  t'   blessings  ara'and  him.

(Enter  Jack Harden.).

HARDEN: Hallow, Sol, hard at it ageean, tha'll be made up in a bit, aw should think.

SOL: What dos ta meean, Harden?

HARDEN:   Aw   meean   tha'll   hev   thi'   fortune   made. SOL:   Fortune   made—nay—they'll   be   nooa   fortunes   for   me nobbut misfortunes.

HARDEN: Who are ya working for na'ah? Ye left Gill­beck Mill after ya fell aght wi' Stubbin,  didn't ya?

SOL: I, an' it wer' t' best day's wark ivver aw did when aw gav'   ower.   Om  working  for  a  firm  ower t'   moor na'ah. HARDEN:  Haah do ye get yer warps   an'  weft? SOL:   Aw   fetch   'em,   for   sewer;   they'se   lots   o'   hand-loom weyvers   abaat   here   het   works   for   Pickles   Bros.,   an'   two   or three moor shops het Haworth an' Stanbury.

HARDEN: It's rayther a lang way ta gooa for warps an" weft,  an'  carry t'  pieces back,  isn't it?

SOL: It's net sa far, ye can gooa theear an' back in a few ha'ars, an'it pays ta do it, rayther ner get wark aba'at here. Aw ollus tak' across t' moor, bi t' causeway, across t' Gal track.      But wheear are ye working, Harden?

HARDEN: Ov a day er two's muck-spreeading het Holling's Farm, an' them om ba'an ta work for Harry Gill until after haytime.

(Enter Mally Watson.).

MALLY:  Hallow, Harden—what's blown ye this  way? HARDEN:  Ov just called ta leet mi pipe  an' hev a chat wi ya'ar Sol.

MALLY: Ye mooan't hinder him fra onny wark, he's a bit pent ta-day.

SOL: Tak' nooa nooatice on her, Harden, sho's sooa used ta bossing me wol sho thinks sho should do t' same wi' other fowk.

HARDEN: Sho's nobbut like mooast ov her sex, sho likes ta show't th' upper hand, but ol be gooin' naah an' let ya get on wi' yer wark. Good-neet, booth on ya—

MALLY: It hed seem ya hez weel, Harden, net ta interfere between Sol an' me. Altho' aw call him a bit sometimes, aw should sooin looyse mi temper if aw heeard onnybody speeak a  wrang word  aba'at him—aw couldn't  stand it.

SOL: Good-neet, Harden. Will ya wind hez a few moor bobbins,   Mally,  oo  neearly  wovven  up?

MALLY: All reight, ha'ah monny moor wil ta want? SOL: Aw think aba'at a dozen hanks hel fell t' warp.

MALLY: Tha'rt ba'an ta hev some weft left: that's what tha nivver hed when tha took wark off Jim Stubbin.

SOL: Now, od ollus ta buy, ta fell aght wi'

MALLY: Well, if tha's onny left, tak it hack wi' tha when tha gooas ower t' moor i' th' morning. If tha's let ov a honest maister, tha can afford ta treeat him honestly—it pays best i' t' lang run. We want nowt nobbut what's reight, if we are poor. They'se nowt does 'em mich good het's getten dishonestly, that's my opinion, Sol.

SOL: Thar't net far wrong, lass—if we are poor, we're content an' happy.

MALLY:   What   time   are  ya   gooin'   th'  morning?

SOL:  Aw  think  a  leeaving  here  ab'at  five.

MALLY: Tha'll want thi porridge i' good time. Ol finish winding theease hanks, an' then we'll try ta get ta bed i' good time.

ACT III.—Scene 1..

LANDSCAPE   (DARK SCENE).

SETH OGDEN: Well, it has come to a pretty pass. I cannot sleep in bed. If things go on as they have done recently, my mind will be unhinged. My financial affairs are becoming worse and worse. I have been in conversation with Jim Stubbin, my manager, to-day. I told him I had arranged to have the books gone through, and get a thorough knowledge as to how I stand. Yet I cannot for the life of me understand it; business seems to be in a flourishing condition. If the books prove wrong entries and falsified accounts, then Jim Stubbin must go—that is a settled conviction with me. 1 will put a man whom I can trust in his place. I do not know what people will think if they see me here, walking about in the small hours of the morning, but I could not sleep. How many sleepness nights I have passed recently!   My nerves are all upse' I was looking out of my bedroom window, in the direction of Gillbeck Mill. I imagined, nay, I am almost sure, I saw a flickering light at one of the upper windows in the mill. It might be nothing, but I could not rest; so I got up and dressed myself, and am now on my way there. Perhaps it is my nerves playing me another trick, but I cannot rest until I have been to investigate. So now I will make my way thither. Perhaps the   walk  will  help  me to  sleep.

ACT III.—Scene 2.

(Fire   at  Gillbeck   Mill.) LANDSCAPE   (DARK SCENE).

JIM STUBBIN (enter carefully, from left, looking around)  This is an ideal night for the job, Seth Ogden. Ha, ha! You think you have cornered me, do you? Fool that you are—I can read you like a book. Do you think Jim Stubbin will be quietly   sent   to   gaol?      Do   you?       Ha.   ha,   you're   mistaken, you're mistaken, Seth " All's well that ends well," but we've not reached the end yet! You want rid of me, do you? Aye, and 1 want rid of you. It is my brains against yours, my wit against your wit. I'm glad you have given me timely warn ing—it is very generous of you. If you had taken me by surprise you would have had me in a trap. I have been to the mill, and I have heaped up all the books and papers that would incriminate me, heaped them together ready to fire them—these shall be the first to be destroyed. I am going to set fire to the mill, and I shall watch it burn with as much pleasure as if I was gaining a fortune. Seth Ogden, with al' your hoasted honesty, where will you turn now? What wi' Miss Bell, of Warier Farm say when you are penniless? With your boasted goodness, the tables might be turned in that-direction. Now to business. I wanted to make certain no on< was about. I do not care to be seen about the place (going carefully back, left). (Enter   Seth   Ogden,   gazing  in  the   direction   of   Gillbeck  Mill.

SETH: My eyes must have deceived me. I cannot see any light. All is in darkness about the place. But hark! what was that noise? Surely it was a footstep. Whoever can it be so early in the morning? I cannot see anyone. I must not be seen here, or people will suspect I have lost my reason— (listening attentively)—I don't hear it now. I wonder if it was a light I saw at one of the windows at the mill, but then it could not be. I shall have to see a doctor, my nerves are get­ting dreadful. I will be getting home again; I will not go on to Gillbeck Mill, now that I am satisfied. (Listening) Surely they are footsteps I hear, hurrying in this direction. I must not be recognised—I will step aside.      (Exit.)

(Enter   Jim  Stubbin.)

STUBBIN:   How   nicely   it   is   getting   hold.      Ha,   ha.   Seth Ogden,   do   your  worst!      I  have   done  my  best.      I   will   raise-the alarm,  when I get clear myself.    (Exit hurriedly.) (Seth Ogden, coming from his hiding place.)

SETH: Jim Stubbin, I'm rarely certain, though it's so dark! What can he want in the mill at this unearthly hour? (at the top of his voice . I must raise the alarm at Beck Row What was that—a flash of lightning? (Turning in direction of Gillbeck Mill). What! the mill on fire! Help!—Help'.-Help! (Exit).

(Enter  Jim Stubbin,  Sol Watson,  Luke  Driver,  Harden,  and Dowshaw.).

BOW: Get yer buckets, an' ta wark, lads!

HARDEN: By Jacks! but it looks ta hev getten fair hod Buckets wiln't do sa mich good; aw think a thunder shower bed do moor.

STUBBIN: Are you going to do nothing but stand ther biting your nails?

DOWSHAW: Ye should 'a letten hez know afoor it hed get­ten sooa fur, an' then we happen could 'a done "summat.

STUBBIN:  What  do  you  mean,  you  fool?

DOWSHAW: Om net ba'an ta be called a fooil wi' ye. if yer one yersel ye net ba'an ta call me one!

(Enter  Seth Ogden,  with bucket.)

SETH: Why are you all standing there? Gazing won't put it out. Come this way with me, we might be able to save something.

HARDEN:  Come on,  chaps, let's do hez hit. (All  go towards the mill except Sol Watson and Luke Driver.)

SOL: This is a bonny come-off, isn't it?

LUKE: Aw wonder ha'ah it gat afire, an' Whooa saw it first?

SOL: Aw dooan't know, but it's ba'an wi' t' lot. (Enter Emma Martin.).

EMMA: Whativver's happened ta cause this?

SOL: Nay, tha knows hez mich hez us.

EMMA: Well—ta think it were all reight a few ha'rs sin-when aw left mi wark, an' na'ah it's all ablaze, an' aw shall be thrown aght o' wark. (Crying). They'se ollus summat comes ta spoil mi happiness. It's a shame ta see it, but it can't be helped na'ah.

LUKE:  Wor ta saving up ageean t' wedding, Emma ?

EMMA: If aw wor, ye've now't ta do with it.

SOL.:  Sattle  da'an, Emma, they'll be some way done—

EMMA: I, Gillbeck Mill's done it do, onnyway. (Shouts from the men beside the fire.).

BOW (unseen): Stand back! Stand back! Top's giving way! (Noises,   and   shouts.)

(They  all join Sol  and Luke  except Seth  Ogden.)

STUBBIN: We can do no more, but our attempt to put it out gave us better  satisfaction.

DOW: Did ya see that? Mr. Ogden had a narrow escape—
he  wor varry neear  being trapped.                                                                      

SOL: Fetch him here, he's in a dangerous spot yonder, an' he can't do onny good.

(Dowshaw fetches him out.)

DOW:   Ye're   gooin'   ta   be   awther   killed   er   lamed   if dooan't  keep  away, an'  this  job's  bad  enough  already.

SETH: Let me be doing something to put out the fire!

DOW: It's far safer ta keep away; it hel burn itself aght in a bit, an' it hel do nooabody nooa good getting burned ta't deeath.

STUBBIN: We have done our best, Mr. Ogden, we really cannot do any more good here. Hadn't we better make off home and change our, wet clothes. I'm afraid Gillbeck Mil) will  never  be  the  same  again.

DOW:  Now,  ner its  maister  wiln't  either.

ACT III.—Scene 3.
LANDSCAPE.

SETH OGDEN: Oh, why should all this come upon me? I have struggled to build up a business; my name could always get credit. As a business man I had built up a reputation. My speculations have been most successful, and now—when I was getting firmly established, and things beginning to run smoothly—a calamity like this comes to damp my ardour and ruin my prospects. I shall have to begin at the bottom of the ladder again. There is only one thing which keeps me from crossing the seas, and that is Grace Bell. If I had not her to consider, I would set sail as soon as I had got settled up  about the fire. I could get sufficient to pay my passage—perhaps I shall have sufficient left after paying my debts. What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do ? Doubts fill my brain, question  after Question  I ask  myself, but the  answers  are  vague. I cannot bring any witnesses to prove my case. First, did Jim Stubbin rob me? Secondly, did he fire the mill? Thirdly, why? Yet ho pretends to be friendly and sympathetic towards me. Is he acting a part for his own selfish ends? Is he trying to get rid of me? But, oh, what shall I do about Grace? I must grant her her liberty. I will write her at once. I cannot bear to meet her—oh! I cannot bear the parting. If I cross the seas she will ever be in my mind. But if I am successful I will return and claim her, for no other can supplant within my breast the fair image of Grace Bell.

(Enter  Grace  Bell.)

GRACE:  Oh, Seth, how pleased I am to meet you,  but  how sorry I am to hear about Gillbeck Mill.

SETH:   You,  Grace !   You! GRACE: Do not worry, Seth.

SETH: Yes, Grace, it is one of those bitter trials which come across life's pathway. Life held for me so many hopes, and joys, and pleasures. Your sweet face, a good business, and a gilded picture of the future. Now—all are gone; the future full of darkness and overhanging clouds. It was too promising to last.

GRACE: Don't talk like that, Seth, but cheer up. You will he as welcome as ever at Warier Farm. Won't you go back with me? Father and mother both sympathise with you in your misfortune, and will do all they can to give you a fresh start.

SETH: It is very good of them, Grace, and I also admire your brave hopefuless, hut I must release you from our engagement. I shall never marry you until I can offer you a home suitable to your position.

GRACE: Do not speak like that. - I cannot bear to be separated from you. I love you—love you with an overflowing heart. It would give me unbounded happiness to share the humblest cottage with you. Wealth and luxury may add to the sweets of life, but I would rather marry the one I love, however poor he was, than live a loveless life with a millionaire. SETH: I do not ask you to wait—it may be years before can offer you a home. My intentions are to go abroad, per­haps to California, where the mines offer a quick fortune. worked at Gillbeck Mines as a lad, so my knowledge will be of some account.

GRACE: Do not leave me, Seth (clinging to him). For God's sake, stay! You will break my heart—I cannot par* with you—(sobbing). Has love come into my life to be cruelly taken away from me? Am I to face life with a broken heart? No, Seth, oceans may roll between us, but we shall not be parted in spirit. I shall never give you up. I do not seek my freedom. If loving you be a bondage, then I am willing—yea; anxious—to endure it.

SETH: Do not urge me to play the coward. I will play
the part of a man. The years will soon slip by. If you are
of the same mind when I return, then our life will be all the
sweeter.                                                                                    

GRACE: Do your duty, Seth, and God above, who. watches over his children, will watch over us, and some day we shall meet again.

SETH: This misfortune has come upon us, and we shall have to make the best of it.

GRACE: But wasn't Gillbeck Mill insured? I have heard
a report to  that effect.

SETH: Yes, I have always had it insured, but Jim Stubbin had omitted to pay the premium for this year, though I gave him instructions so to do.   I have trusted him too much, Grace.

GRACE: Won't you go up to Warier Farm to-day?

SETH: No, I beg to be excused. Remember me to your father and mother, and as soon as I have settled up my affaire I  shall  probably  go  to America.

GRACE:   Shall  I  not  see  you  again  before  you  go?

SETH   (embracing each other):  It is  hard  for you,  I  know, but remember  it is  also  hard  for  me.      Let  us  each  keep  a brave heart.     We are in the hands of a loving Father, and He will guide us and bring us together in His own good  time. (Kissing  each  other  and  shaking  hands.)

GRACE:  Good-bye, sweetheart.

SETH: Good-bye, love, till we meet again.

ACT III.—Scene 4.

LANDSCAPE-GIBB   HILL   (Semi-dark). (Dowshaw and Harden enter together.)

DOWSHAW: Well, om abaat fagged aght; we'd a bonny job on this morning, driving them beeas' ta Skipton, an' tramping abaat all day, an naah it's dropping dark, an' we're fair on t' top o' Gibb Hill, an' it's starting ta rain.

HARDEN: Let's shelter under t' wall a bit; it might cleear up, and it hel be a bit ov a rest, an' we can shell aght hez profits.

DOWSHAW:  Well, tha's  brass,  hezn't ta?

HARDEN: I, except what ov paid; they wer't fare fra Skip­ton, sixpence, an' ninepence for jock, an' that's haah mich?— a  bob an' threepence.

DOWSHAW: That leeaves three an' sevenpence ha'penny ta divide—that hel be a bob each, that's two bob, an' a tanner apiece, that's another bob, an' sevenpence ha'penny—haah the world can wa divide that?

HARDEN: It looks hez one on hez hel hev ta tak' sixpence
an'  t'other  three-ha'pence.

DOWSHAW: Nay, Harden, are ta going off thi dot? We sal hex threepence ha'penny apiece, an' throw t'other ha'penny away.

HARDEN: Tha'll mind wheear tha throws it to, but aw havn't onny change, sooa we'll wait wol wi get hooam.

DOWSHOW: If tha doesn't taw up fair, aw sal- hev nooa
moor  deealings  wi'  tha.

HARDEN: Did ta see Seth Ogden an' Jim Stubbin i' Skipton?

DOWSHAW: I, they've been summat ower a dispute abaat insurance  o' Gillbeck—Mill.

HARDEN: They're saying Jim Stubbin set it afire hissel, but tha mooan't say het ov seaid owt.

DOWSHAW: I, ov heeard hez mich; he'd getten his books wrang, he's swindled Seth Ogden aght o' monny a hunred paand, an' fired mill, sooas he wodn't be fun aght.

HARDEN: Oh! aw nivver heeard that—that's a war do ner t' egg job.

DOWSHAW: Be quiet a bit, aw thowt aw heeard somebody coming

HARDEN: Aw believe ther' is! Aw thowt they wer' nooa­body wi' sooa little sense hez ta cross Gib Hill ta-neet nobbut hez-sel.

DOWSHAW: We'd better shelter i' this owd shed wol they get passed.

HARDEN: Mind, they'se an owd mine shaft theear. We nooan't tumble daan, er else we'se miss hez supper, an' we wouldn't like ta do that.

DOWSHAW: I, Gibb Hill's covered with 'em-come on wi tha!

(Enter Jim Stubbin and Seth Ogden.). . STUBBIN:  Shall  we  shelter here  a little  while?

SETH: Let us get on a little further—I don't like being near these ugly shafts, especially as it is getting dark.

STUBBIN: Ye're getting nervous, Mr. Ogden.

SETH: I might well, after what I have gone through—mill burnt down, money nearly all gone, and all my prospects in life destroyed. I am thinking of going abroad; there is nothing left for me here but worry and trouble. There is. nothing that holds me here only—(aside) Oh! it breaks my heart to think of parting with Grace.

STUBBIN: You don't attach any of your misfortunes to my doing, do you?     Bo you suspect I have been the" cause of them?

SETH: Why do you ask that?

STUBBIN: For various reasons, but more particularly because of certain reports that have reached me. But before we leave this spot the matter shall be threshed out between us. If you suspect me, you shall prove it. My character shall not be dragged in the dust without cause.

SETH: If you wish to know how much of the true state of affairs I know, I will tell you. You have held a responsible position at Gillbeck Mill. I have trusted you and you have proved yourself a traitor and a cheat, and I have proof enough to convince me.

STUBBIN (seizing him by the throat): I have a good mind to  throw  you  down  this   disused   shaft,   you   villain!

SETH: Leave go! I have not finished. I went through the books, and had you not fired the mill I should have had you in  the hands of the police ere this.

STUBBIN: Fool!   You charge me with setting fire to the mill?

SETH: I saw you myself leave the place within a few minutes of the fire commencing. How often have you cheated Sol Watson and Luke Driver, and many more of the outside hand-loom weavers, out of their hard-earned money? It is a heinous crime to rob anybody, but only* the meanest of men will rob the poor.

STUBBIN: I'm found out, am 1? Take that! (hitting him on the head with his stick. Seth falls to the ground. Stubbin is Binding him with ropes, when he recovers consciousness). Now, you are at my mercy. I give you three minutes to with­draw those infamous charges you made against me, or yeu'll find me a hard man to deal with. Unless you do, your mangled body will soon be lying at the bottom of this disused pit, and nobody will be any wiser. I shall circulate the report that you have gone abroad, then the guilt will be attached to your name —even Grace Bell will despise you as a coward who could not face the music!

SETH. Have mercy! Surely you will not commit so mur­derous a deed. If you do, punishment will be meted out to you in this life, and you will carry about the brand of Cain to your dying day.     You have led me to this lonely place with murder  in  your  heart.      I  can  face  death.      I  have   at'  least tried  to  live  a honest  life,  and  sooner  than  try to  clear  you I  will face the  worst a wretch like you can do.

STUBBIN:  Time is up—make your decision.

SETH: My decision is made—do your worst. I commend my
body and spirit into the keeping of Him who gave it.

STUBBIN (mockingly): Let me make a confession. I have robbed you for years. I have misappropriated your money, and I fired the mill. I shall be a man of influence when you are gone, and I will promise you one thing—Grace Bell shall have every attention from me. (Seizing him, a struggle takes place, Seth Ogden is pitched down the shaft.)

STUBBIN: Good heavens! What shall I do? How account for his disappearance? What have I done? What possessed me? Is it ever so? Greed, greed, greed—one act leads to another; a few shillings at first, finally murder! No, not murder!—an accident—self-defence! I might have gone down the pit myself—(peering into pit). Was that his cry I heard? No, my own conscience. What! turning a coward? Bah! I must be more brave. (Jim   Stubbin   leaves  the   place.   Enter   Dowshaw   and   Harden.)

DOWSHAW: They'se nooabody here naah, but they'se a walking-stick.

HARDEN: Wheear's Mr. Ogden? They wer nooabody but Stubbin left here, an' we heeard 'em talking het a fair pitch, but we couldn't catch what they said for t'wind.

DOWSHAW: Aw see nowt for it but he's thrown him daan t' shaft here. There saaunded to be a fair scuffle, an' didn't ya heear a  screeam?

HARDEN: That's just what he's done, scamp het he is—if he wer here naah od throw him daan missel! But happen he's turned back.

DOWSHAW (calling down the shaft): Mr. Ogden—Seth—are-ya  thear?     Seth!  Seth!—noa answer.

HARDEN:  Haah can ta expect him answering if he's killed.

DOWSHAW: We's happen get inta bother hessel if we dooan't clear off fra here.   But whooase this het's coming? (Enter Jim Stubbin.)

STUBBIN:  What are you doing here?

DOWSHAW: We've just found this stick, an' we're flayed somebody's happened  an  accident.

STUBBIN: Give that stick to me. How long have you been
here?                                                                   '                                                                          

DOWSHAW: Ten or fifteen minutes, moor er less.

STUBBIN:  Where?

DOWSHAW:  Sheltering  i'  that  owd  shed.

STUBBIN:  Do you  suspect foul  play?

DOWSHAW: I,  aw think sooa,  dooan't wa, Harden?

STUBBIN: If there has been foul play, I want you to tell me all about it, or I will inform the police on you.

HARDEN: Police—what, o' Dowshaw an' me ?

STUBBIN: Why not? You are the only persons about. If you suggest someone has been thrown down this old mine, you are the most likely criminals.

DOWSHAW: Don't tell the police o' us, we've nowt ta do with it. We'd come ta t' conclusion ye knew summat abaat it. We were certain ye were quarrelling wi' somebody when ya stopped here,  an'  we thowt it. wer Mr. Ogden.

STUBBIN: Let's have a less of that nonsense. I don't think   there   has   been   anything.   It   is   your   imagination   that has run wild.   I was talking a little to myself as I came past, and the reason I came back was because I had dropped my stick.

DOWSHAW: Well, we might be mista'en; we nivver saw nowt, we were het t'other o' t' wall—but ye'l net say nowt ta  t' perlice?-

STUBBIN:  Promise me you'll not speak a word to anybody about seeing me here to-night.   We  shall hear  if  anybody  has met with an accident and fallen  down there.   I  want you both to  swear. HARDEN:  We nivver do nooa  sweearing,  do wa,  Dowshaw?

STUBBIN: Yes, but I mean to declare upon oath.

DOWSHAW:  Well,  arn't oaths eweearing?

STUBBIN: Promise none of our conversation to-night shall be breathed to anyone, or else you will, find yourself in serious trouble.

DOWSHAW: All reight, ol promise.

HARDEN:  An'   sooa will  aw.

STUBBIN: I also promise I will never speak to a living soul, so let us  be  making  towards  home  before  it  gets  pitch  dark. (Exit). DOWSHAW   (aside): Aw  dooan't like looks o' this job.
~
ACT III.—Scene 5.

GARDEN  SCENE.
(Enter  Grace  Bell,  singing  " Ever  of  thee  I'm fondly dreaming," and sits down on garden seat.)

GRACE: My thoughts will wander. I feel to be losing hold
of life. The one thought which constantly fills, my mind is, what has become of Seth? Why does he not write, just one line to say he still loves me, to say he will one day come back to me? Twelve long, weary months have passed away since last I saw him, I still love him, and I will remain true to him. Jim Stubbin, who pesters me with his smooth tongue, I dislike. I believe he is at the bottom of all our troubles. Even Seth lost confidence in him. But some day the mystery will be cleared, and hope is my boon companion; and I am confident he will come and claim me some day.

(Enter Harden.)

HARDEN: A', Miss Grace, an' pleeased aw am ta see ya, Hev ya heeard owt a' Mr. Ogden yet?

GRACE: No, I have not, Mr. Harden.

HARDEN: Well, ye'll hev ta try ta forget him, that's best thing ye  can do.

GRACE: Forget him! Forget him! How can I forget him? There are some things, Harden, you cannot forget, and others you do not want to forget. Do you know, I feel as confident as you are there that Mr. Ogden will come back to me when he sees fit.

HARDEN: Ye've a lot o' confidence, Miss Bell—a deeal moor ner  aw hev.

GRACE: Do you know something about him? People might wish to keep the truth from me, especially if it is unpleasant

HARDEN: I, they might do. Aw could tell ya summat, but
I might get sent ta prison if aw did; but dooan't think oo ivver laid a finger on Mr. Ogden.   Aw respected him ta mich for that

GRACE: What do you know, Harden? For heaven's sake, do not keep it from me!

HARDEN: Will ya promise ma ye wiln't faint, er screeam, er gooa inta 'sterics, er onny o' them things; becos om pledged ta keep it a sacret, but aw can't bide ta see ya suffering.

GRACE: t have a strong nerve, and will try to bear it, whatever it is.

HARDEN: Well, that neet Seth disappeared, Dowshaw an'
me were coming ower Gibb Hill, an' we stopped ta shelter aght o' t' rain. Wol we wer' theear, Stubbin and Mr. Ogden com past. They stopp't by an owd shaft an' began ta quarrel. ,An' aw think he hit Mr. Ogden with his stick, an' om hez certain hez yer theear he threw him daan th' owd shaft— (scream)—an' he's nivver been seen er heeard tell on since.

GRACE: Good heavens! Oh! What shall I do? (weeping
bitterly)

HARDEN: Dooan't tak' on sooa, aw wish od nivver tell'd ya—but it's bothered mi mind ivver since. Dooan't let on het ov tell'd ya.

GRACE: Oh! Do leave me, Mr. Harden. I cannot bear to hear more. Had ever a girl to bear such troubles as I have? Why didn't you tell this at the time? Perhaps he might have been   rescued.

HARDEN: Ol confess we ought to ha' done. Well, cheer up, Grace, he might 'a getten aght ageean—they'se nooa telling. Good-day.

GRACE: Good-day, Harden. Dead! Dead, is he? Murdered by Jim Stubbin, cruel wretch, despicable coward that he is! Yet something within tells me he is not dead—I cannot believe 'it— I will not believe it. I shall still hope on; it cannot be true!     (Covers her face, crying.)

(Enter Jim Stubbin.)

STUBBIN: What, weeping—your face is too pretty to be spoiled with tears.

GRACE: Tours is spoiled with being double. (Sharply) What do you want?

STUBBIN: I want your company. I have come to pay my addresses to you. I am a lover who won't prove false and fickle when misfortune comes along, as Mr. Ogden did.

GRACE: If you do not leave me, I will smack your face! I don't want your love—you require all the love you've got for yourself.

STUBBIN: Come, now, let's,make it up; you're the one girl I always  admire.

GRACE: And you're the one man I loathe and detest and bitterly hate.

STUBBIN: Thanks for your compliment. You " had better be careful what you say. Remember, there is a very thin line betwixt love and hate. There was not much love about Mr. Ogden, or you would have heard from him before now—he's left you in the lurch.

GRACE: You left him in the lurch when you murdered him —when you cruelly threw him down the shaft on Gibb Hill. Do  you  know anything  about that?

STUBBIN: It is a lie, a dastardly lie! Has Jim Dowshaw or Jack Harden told you this?

GRACE: I shan't tell you where I heard it, but I can see guilt upon your face. Remember, you will have the crime to-answer for if I collect sufficient evidence.

 


 

has run wild.   I was talking a little to myself as I came past, and the reason I came back was because I had dropped my stick.

DOWSHAW: Well, we might be mista'en; we nivver saw nowt, we were het t'other o' t' wall—but ye'l net say nowt ta  t'  perlice?.

STUBBIN: Promise me you'll not speak a word to anybody about seeing me here to-night.   We  shall hear it  anybody has met with an accident and fallen  down there.   I want you both to swear. HARDEN:  We  nivver  do nooa  sweearing,  do  wa,  Dowshaw?

STUBBIN: Yes, but I mean to declare upon oath.

DOWSHAW:  Well, arn't oaths sweearing?

STUBBIN: Promise none of our conversation to-night shall be breathed to anyone, or else you will find yourself in serious trouble.

DOWSHAW: All reight, ol promise.

HARDEN:   An'   sooa  will   aw.

STUBBIN: I also promise I will never speak to a living soul, so let us  be  making  towards  home  before  it  gets  pitch  dark. (Exit). DOWSHAW   (aside):  Aw  dooan't like  looks  o"  this  job.

ACT III.—Scene 5.

GARDEN  SCENE.

(Enter  Grace  Bell,  singing  " Ever  of  thee  I'm- fondly dreaming," and sits down on garden seat.)

GRACE: My thoughts will wander. I feel to be losing hold of life. The one thought which constantly fills, my mind is, what has become of Seth? Why does he not write, just one line to say he still loves me, to say he will one day come back to me? Twelve long, weary months have passed away since last I saw him, I still love him, and I will remain true to him. Jim Stubbin, who pesters me with his smooth tongue, I dislike. I believe he is at the bottom of all our troubles. Even Seth lost confidence in him. But some day the mystery will be cleared, and hope is my boon companion; and I am confident he will come and claim me some day.

(Enter Harden.)

HARDEN: A', Miss Grace, an' pleeased aw am ta see ya, Hev ya heeard owt a' Mr. Ogden yet?

GRACE: No, I have not, Mr. Harden.

HARDEN: Well, ye'll hev ta try ta forget him, that's best thing  ye  can  do.

GRACE: Forget him! Forget him! How can I forget him? There are some things, Harden, you cannot forget, and others you do not want to forget. Do you know, I feel as confident as you are there that Mr. Ogden will come back to me when he sees fit.

HARDEN: Ye've a lot o' confidence, Miss Bell—a deeal moor ner  aw hev.

GRACE: Do you know something about him? People might wish to keep the truth from me, especially if it is unpleasant,

HARDEN: I, they might do. Aw could tell ya, summat, but I might get sent ta prison if aw did; but dooan't think oo ivver laid a finger on Mr. Ogden.   Aw respected him ta mich for that

 


 

GRACE: What do you know, Harden? For heaven's sake, do not  keep it from me!

HARDEN: Will ya promise ma ye wiln't faint, er screeam, er gooa inta 'sterics, er onny o' them things; becos om pledged. ta keep it a sacret, but aw can't bide ta see ya suffering.

GRACE: I have a strong nerve, and will try to bear it, whatever it is.

HARDEN: Well, that neet Seth disappeared, Dowshaw an' me were coming ower Gibb Hill, an' we stopped ta shelter aght o' t' rain. Wol we wer' theear, Stubbin and Mr. Ogden com past. They atopp't by an owd shaft an' began ta quarrel. An' aw think he hit Mr. Ogden with his stick, an' om hez certain hez yer theear he threw him daan th' owd shaft— (scream)—an'  he's nivver been seen er heeard tell on  since.

GRACE: Good heavens! Oh! What shall I do? (weeping bitterly).

HARDEN: Dooan't tak' on sooa, aw wish od nivver tell'd ya—but it's bothered mi mind ivver since. Dooan't let on het ov tell'd ya.

GRACE: Oh! Do leave me, Mr. Harden. I cannot bear to hear more. Had ever a girl to bear such troubles as I have? Why didn't you tell this at the time? Perhaps he might have been   rescued.

HARDEN: Ol confess we ought to ha' done. Well, cheer up, Grace, he might 'a getten aght ageean—they'se nooa telling. Good-day.

GRACE: Good-day, Harden. Dead! Dead, is he? Murdered
by Jim Stubbin, cruel wretch, despicable coward that he is!
Yet something within tells me he is not dead—I cannot believe
'it—I will not believe it. I shall still hope on; it cannot be
true!      (Covers her face, crying.)                                                  .

(Enter Jim Stubbin.)

STUBBIN: What, weeping—your face is too pretty to be spoiled with tears.

GRACE: Yours is spoiled with being double. (Sharply) What do you want?

STUBBIN: I want your company. I have come to pay my addresses to you. I am a lover who won't prove false and fickle when misfortune comes along, as Mr. Ogden did.

GRACE: If you do not leave me, I will smack your face! I don't want your love—you require all the love you've-got for yourself.

STUBBIN: Come, now, let's make it up; you're the one girl I  always  admire,

GRACE: And you're the one man I loathe and detest and bitterly hate.

STUBBIN: Thanks for your compliment. You had better be careful what you say. Remember, there is a very thin line betwixt love and hate. There was not much love about Mr. Ogden, or you would have heard from him before now—he's left you in the lurch.

GRACE: You left him in the lurch when you murdered him —when you cruelly threw him down the shaft on Gibb Hill. Do  you  know anything  about that?

STUBBIN: It is a lie, a dastardly lie! Has Jim Dowshaw or Jack Harden told you this?

GRACE: I shan't tell you where I heard it, but I can see guilt upon your face. Remember, you will have the crime to answer for if I collect sufficient evidence.

 
STUBBIN: Yes, and if I can get to know who set that re­port abroad, they will have to answer tor it in a court of law.

GRACE: You will get an opportunity of trying, to prove it, perhaps earlier than you care to do, Leave, me now, I don't want to be seen by anyone in such company as yours. I'd sooner share a home with my father's cattle than with you. Beasts have sense to look after themselves—you haven't—and it is  something very unusual  to see you  pretty  near  sober.

STUBBIN: Good-day, Miss Bell; you defy me. What are you but a farmer's daughter and a deserted lady-love. (Exit Stubbin.)

GRACE: Oh, for strength an4 guidance through the dark and miserable days. The cruel hand of Fate has overtaken us. Oh! Seth! Seth! If we meet no more on earth, we hope to meet in that land above, and I pray for faith, and trust, and confidence, to do my duty and bear up bravely (covering her face with her hand).

ACT III.—Scene 6.

NED  DRIVER'S  " PUB."

(Dowshaw  and  Harden   sat  at  one  table,   Jim  Stubbin  at another, halt drunk.)

(Jim Stubbin  laid  with his head  upon  his  arms  on  the table, asleep.)

DOWSHAW: They'se a nice kettle o' fish theear, if ya will.

HARDEN: I, Jim's gooan ta t' dogs wi' a rattle. He's neearly ollus here naah. He's here ivvery time aw call, onny-haah.

DOWSHAW: He'll drink hissel ta't deeath yet, naah mark my words.

HARDEN: But wheear does he get his brass fra! That licks me

DOWSHAW: It's nooa need, tha knows weel enough wheear
he gat it fra.                                                                                       -'

HARDEN: Oh, ye meean what he swindled aght, o' Seth Ogden. Aw say they'se nivver been nowt heeard on him yet, an' it's aboon a yeear since.

DOWSHAW: It hel pay us best, Harden, ta let that job rest. We made a bonny fooil ov hissel that neet on Gibb Hill. We should 'a made it known an' faced thing aght. Haah could onnybody 'a blamed us. He did Seth Ogden his job all reight that neet, an' it hel bother me hez lang hez aw live.

HARDEN: Well, we can't help it naah; we did what we thowt wer't  best  for  hissel.

DOWSHAW: He thinks he getten aght on it nicely, but if ivver they'se owt made o' t' body, we'se net be within telling what we know.

HARDEN: He saaunded aght weel abaat him having gooan abrooad, but folk's beginning ta daaht that story, becos they all know het Stubbin were seen with him last ov onnybody— besides, Miss Bell, shoo'd 'a heeard fra him it he wer living.

DOWSHAW: Here, Ned, bring Harden and me another gill apiece, ol pay  for it.

NED:  Hez  it  dropped  da'an ta  gills naah?

DOWSHAW: I, we can't all spend hez mich o' ale' hez Stub­bin  theear  does—we're  nooan  millionaires.

NED: He's getting rayther ta good a customer is Jim here: aw wodn't care if he didn't come hez oft. It's net het aw want him here nearly ivvery haar o' t' day.

HARDEN: Does he come sooa oft?

NED: He's net satisfied wi' ale, same hez ye—it's spirits he drinks.     Ye mun call aght if ya want owt else.     (Exit).

STUBBIN (waking out of his sleep): Who says I did it? Who says I  did it?     Nobody saw me!

DOWSHAW: If we dooan't say sooa, we think it, dooan't wa Harden?     It must be  affecting his brain.

HARDEN:  That's been  affected a  lang while.

DOWSHAW:  What are ya  chuntering abaat,  Stubbin?

STUBBIN: What hare you country clods got to do with it? Here, Ned! (Enter Ned.) Who occupies the parlour? I don't wish to  sit here  amongst such company  as  these loafers.

NED: If this raam isn't good enough for ya, ye mun give ower coming, that's all aw hev ta say.

STUBBIN:  I consider that a blasted insult, Ned!

NED: Consider it what ya like, but -ol tell ya this, Jim— this hase is a public-haase, net a private haase.

HARDEN:  Good!     He's put ya  one  in,  Stubbin. My name  is Mr.  James  Stubbin. I,  an' they owt to be t'  alphabet het end  o'  thi

STUBBIN:

HARDEN: name.

Don't be too  clever, Harden.   Here, Ned,  another

STUBBIN: whiskey.

NED:  Ye've hed  enough ta-day,  Stubbin.

STUBBIN: I should be the competent person to know when I've had enough, and don't I pay you for all I get?

HARDEN: Tha doesn't pay for mich het aw get, onnyrooad.

STUBBIN:  I   pay  for  myself,   is  not  that   sufficient?   It   has always been my policy to look well after Mr. Stubbin.     You'll not find my  named  chalked   onNed's  slate—isn't  that  so,  Ned? NET):   J'  that is  sooa,  Jim.

DOWSHAW:   Are   ye   aght   o'   wark   yet,   Mr.   Stubbin?

STUBBIN:   I've  no   need   to   work.

DOWSHAW:   Somebody  must  'a  left  ya  a   fortune.

STUBBIN: I've got money—don't you trouble as to how I got it.

DOWSHAW: Ov a good idea:

STUBBIN  (excitedly): What do you mean?  DOWSHAW:   Aw   meean   what   aw   say—if   ivverybody   hed the'r oan, ye'd hev less ner what ya hev!

STUBBIN:  Do you  mean  to  say  I   got it dishonestly?

DOWSHAW: Aw nivver said haah ye gat it; ye owt ta" know best yersel. But ov browt ya scores o' parcels an' things, when ye wer het Gillbeck Mill, het aw nivver gat paid for—ye wer' ollus short o' change, er summat, though ye boost ov a good memory it ollus wor good het remembering owt het onnybody owed ya, but ye could ollus think on ta forget ta pay me, sooa aw reckon aw helped ya ta build up yer fortune.

STUBBIN: You blooming red-faced scarecrow, I've a good mind  to kick  you out of the  place!

HARDEN: Remember, Stubbin, aw sal tak' sides wi' Dowshaw

DOWSHAW: Aw can deeal wi' two Stubbin's myself, sooa come on if ye want owt.   (Preparing for a scuffle.     Enter Nea.)

NED: If ye want ta kick up a row ye'l hev ta gooa aght-side. Aw wiln't hev it in heear, an' if ye dooan't all cleear aght i', two minutes, ol kick ya aght.

 
STUBBIN: Yes, and if I can get to know who set that re­port abroad, they will have to answer for it in a court of law.

GRACE: You will get an opportunity of trying, to prove it, perhaps earlier than you care to do. Leave, me now, I don't want to be seen by anyone in such company as yours. I'd sooner share a home with my father's cattle than with you. Beasts have sense to look after themselves—you haven't—and it is something very unusual to see  you  pretty  near  sober.

STUBBIN: Good-day, Miss Bell; you defy me. What are you but a farmer's daughter and a deserted lady-love. (Exit Stubbin.)

GRACE: Oh, for strength and guidance through the dark and miserable days. The cruel hand of Fate has overtaken us. Oh! Seth! Seth! If we meet no more on earth, we hope to meet in that land above, and I pray for faith, and trust, and confidence, to do my duty and bear up bravely (covering her face with her hand).

ACT III.—Scene 6.

NED   DRIVER'S   " PUB."

(Dowshaw   and  Harden   sat  at  one  table,  Jim  Stubbin  at another, half drunk.)

(Jim Stubbin   laid  with  his  head  upon  his  arms  on the table, asleep.)

DOWSHAW: They'se a nice kettle o' fish theear, if ya will.

HARDEN: I, Jim's gooan ta t' dogs wi' a rattle. He's neearly ollus here naah. He's here ivvery time aw call, onny-haah.

DOWSHAW: He'll drink hissel ta't deeath yet, naah mark my words.

HARDEN: But wheear does he get his brass fra! That licks me

DOWSHAW: It's nooa need, tha knows weel enough wheear he gat it fra.

HARDEN: Oh, ye meean what he swindled aght o' Seth Ogden. Aw say, they'se nivver been nowt heeard on him yet, a.n' it's aboon a yeear since.

DOWSHAW: It hel pay us best, Harden, ta let that job rest. We made a bonny fooil ov hissel that neet on Gibb Hill. We should 'a made it known an' faced thing aght. Haah could onnybody 'a blamed us. He did Seth Ogden his job all reight that neet, an' it hel bother me hez lang hez aw live.

HARDEN: Well, we can't help it naah; we did what we thowt wer't  best  for  hissel.

DOWSHAW: He thinks he getten aght on it nicely, but if ivver they'se owt made o' t' body, we'se net be within telling what we know.

HARDEN: He saaunded aght weel abaat him having gooan abrooad, but folk's beginning ta daaht that story, becos they all know het Stubbin were seen with him last ov onnybody— besides, Miss Bell, shoo'd 'a heeard fra him if he wer living.

DOWSHAW: Here, Ned, bring Harden and me another gill apiece,  ol pay  for  it.

NED:  Hez it  dropped  da'an ta  gills naah?

DOWSHAW: I, we can't all spend hez. mich o' ale' hez Stub­bin   theear  does—we're  nooan  millionaires.

 
NED: He's getting rayther ta good a customer is Jim here: aw wodn't care if he didn't come hez oft. It's net het aw want him here nearly ivvery haar o' t' day.

HARDEN: Does he come  sooa oft?

NED: He's net satisfied wi' ale, same hez ye—it's spirits he drinks.     Ye mun call aght if ya want owt else.     (Exit).

STUBBIN (waking out of his sleep): Who says I did it? Who says I  did it?     Nobody saw me!

DOWSHAW: If we dooan't say sooa, we think it, dooan't wa Harden?     It must be  affecting his brain.

HARDEN:   That's  been  affected  a  lang  while.

DOWSHAW:  What are  ya  chuntering  abaat,  Stubbin?

STUBBIN: What have you country clods got to do with it? Here, Ned! (Enter Ned.) Who occupies the parlour? I don't wish to sit here  amongst such company  as  these  loafers.

NED: If this raam isn't good enough for ya, ye mun give ower coming, that's all aw hev ta say.

STUBBIN:  I consider that a blasted insult, Ned!

NED: Consider it what ya like, but ol tell ya this, Jim— this hase is a public-haase, net a private haase.

HARDEN:   Good!      He's  put  ya   one  in,   Stubbin.

STUBBIN: My name is Mr. James Stubbin.

HARDEN: I, an' they owt to be t' alphabet het end o' thi name.

STUBBIN: Don't be too clever, Harden. Here, Ned, another whiskey.

NED:  Ye've hed enough ta-day,  Stubbin.

STUBBIN: I should be the competent person to know when I've had enough,  and don't I  pay you for  all  I  get?

HARDEN:  Tha doesn't pay for mich het aw  get, onnyrooad.

STUBBIN:   I   pay  for  myself,   is not  that   sufficient?   It   has always been my policy  to look well  after Mr.  Stubbin.      You'll not find my  named chalked  on  Ned's slate—isn't that   so,  Ned? NED:  I' that is  sooa,  Jim.

DOWSHAW:   Are   ye   aght   o'   wark  yet,   Mr.   Stubbin?

STUBBIN:   I've   no   need   to  work.

DOWSHAW:   Somebody  must 'a  left  ya a  fortune.

STUBBIN: I've got money—don't you trouble as to how I got it.

DOWSHAW: Ov a good idea:

STUBBIN  (excitedly): What do you mean?  DOWSHAW:   Aw   meean   what   aw   say—if   ivverybody   hed the'r oan, ye'd hev less ner what ya hev!

STUBBIN:  Do you mean to  say I  got It dishonestly?

DOWSHAW: Aw nivver said haah ye gat it; ye owt ta' know best yersel. But ov browt ya scores o' parcels an' things, when ye wer het Gillbeck Mill, het aw nivver gat paid for—ye wer' ollus short o' change, er summat, though ye boost ov a good memory it ollus wor good het remembering owt het onnybody owed ya, but ye could ollus think on ta forget ta pay me, sooa aw reckon aw helped ya ta build up yer fortune.

STUBBIN: You blooming red-faced scarecrow, I've a good mind to kick you out of the place!

HARDEN: Remember, Stubbin, aw sal tak' sides wi' Dowshaw

DOWSHAW: Aw can deeal wi' two Stubbin's myself, sooa come on if ye want owt.    (Preparing for a  scuffle.     Enter Nea.)

NED: If ye want ta kick up a row ye'l hev ta gooa aght-side. Aw wiln't hev it in heear, an' if ye dooan't all cleear aght i' two minutes, ol kick ya aght.

 
ACT IV.—Scene 1.

SCENE—LOG CABIN, CALIFORNIA.-(Glossy and Smuts sat smoking.)

SMUTS:  We're  having  it  'ceptional  quiet to-night,  Glossy.

GLOSSY: Yes, it's very seldom we have quiet moments like the present.   It gives one a chance of reflecting upon the past.

SMUTS: If I was in your position, governor, I should re­flect upon the present. Lucky bloke you've been. You've got the dollars.

GLOSSY: I have been lucky, Smuts, and, as you know, I have done very well since I came to Sandy Creek, hut I am thinking  of leaving  you  shortly.

SMUTS: Ya don't mane it, boss, do you? Lucky dog! I wish I had taken yer advice years ago. I could have made tracks for home long since. But it's no use, the gambling fever has got hold of me. I cannot stand corn, I get too spirity. As sure as I strike a good vein at the mines, I am off the rails, the saloon gets me—and ray cash as well The result is always the same in the end, which means I have to make another start, and but for you I should have chucked up the sponge long ago.

GLOSSY: Think of your wife and children. I dare say they would often have fared badly if I had not insisted upon you sending them money when  you  were doing well.

SMUTS: You're a gent, you are—and I shan't want to work for any other boss. If you go and leave us, it will have no charms will Sandy Creek then.

GLOSSY: You're a good workman, Smuts, and if you're only steady  there is no reason  why you  should not take my place.

SMUTS: Hang it—I wish I could! But there wouldn't be yo' at mi elbow ta stop ma when I had the blues.

GLOSSY: Be a man, Smuts, put in a year or two of good work, and then you would be able to go back to your wife and children. It is your duty to do it—don't take your hard-earned money to the saloon.

SMUTS: Ye mane well, boss; but if yer going to lave us so soon, I should like to know more about ya before we part. Your real name's not Glossy, is it?

GLOSSY: No, my real name is Seth Ogden. They named me Glossy when I first came here, because I wore a collar and none of the others  did.

SMUTS": And are you married?

GLOSSY: Married—no.

SMUTS: Then why are you in such a desperate hurry to get back to the Old Country?

GLOSSY: If you will keep my name and history a secret until after I have gone, I will briefly outline my reason for coming here.

SMUTS: Mum's the word. Here, charge up again (handing his pouch).

GLOSSY: In the Old Country I owned a mill and was very prosperous. I had a manager whom I trusted, but he got into difficulties and misappropriated my money, and when I found him out he set fire to the mill. He had omitted paying the insurance premium, though I gave him instructions so to do, so the fire brought me to financial ruin. 1 was courting a lovely girl. He also was in love with her. After the fire we had to go together on business to a neighbouring town  and wewalked back, at his request, over a lonely moor, honeycombed with mine shafts. As we crossed the moor, darkness overtook us and it began to rain. We sought for shelter besides a high wall In getting to the place we had to pass a disused pit, which stood a short distance from the beaten track. He then cowardly hit me on the head with his stick, bound me witty cords, confessed his misdeeds, cruelly mocked me, and threw me down the shaft.

SHUTS: Take me back with yer, Glossy, and if the villain is alive, I'll pay him out—such blokes should not be allowed to live.

GLOSSY: He possibly thought that was the end of me, but after falling a short distance, the pit sloped down towards a low level, and I managed to free myself and found my way out at a low entrance in the valley, and came away by the first boat I could get.

SMUTS: Don't yer sweetheart know where you are?

GLOSSY: No one knows. They will mourn for me as dead. I have had no news since I left five years ago.

SMUTS: Do you think that blinking toad's got married to her ?

GLOSSY: No, not if I know her right. I shall still find her unmarried, unless she has married someone else, thinking I am dead.

SMUTS: It's good luck aw wish you, Glossy, and I'll give . you my revolver if you'll put that fellow in the pedigree he ought to be, blest if I won't! Just send him on here—we'll soon send him West.

GLOSSY: You're too hasty, Smuts. The man will receive his reward according to his deeds, if he be still alive, a guilty conscience  will  be  punishment.

SMUTS: How can conscience punish him?     He airn't got any

GLOSSY: I shall go back disguised, and find my bearings. If I find Miss Bell married, I might come back and settle down at Sandy Creek—there will be nothing to live for.

SMUTS: I'm glad you've given me some record of your Eng­lish life. We knew you wasn't one of our crew, but you're the straightest chap an' the best-liked of any man in Sandy Creek. Let's hav' yer hand. Good luck to th' wench and good luck to yerself—and I'd better not say what I wish to th' man that se' th' mill on fire.

ACT IV.—Scene 2.

WOOD  SCENE.      (Enter Grace  Bell).

GRACE: Oh, what a weary life is mine. Five years have passed and nothing heard of Seth. Seasons come and go, yet they bring me no satisfaction. An aching heart is my con­stant companion. I have tried to fathom the mystery of Gibb Hill. I am certain that Jim Stubbin is at the bottom of it all Have  I to carry this burden all "my  days?      (Enter Dowshaw.)

DOWSHAW: Hallow, Miss Grace, om pleeased ta see ya, but ye're looking rayther sorrowful.

GRACE:  Yea, I  am meditating.

DOWSHAW: Meditating—what's that? Is it some kind o' geography?

GRACE: I would give all 1 possess to be as happy and con­tented as you are, Dowshaw.

DOWSHAW:  Haah do ya know om content?

GRACE: Your countenance tells me.

DOWSHAW:  Ye dooan't meean mi  wife,  do ya?

GRACE:  No, I  said your countenance.

DOWSHAW: Countenance—well, aw dooan't know whether that's geography er grammer. Ye know, ov nivver been ta t' skooil much, but what aw did leearn wer ta drive in—aw gat moor  stick ner eddication.

GRACE:  Yes, but you can have happiness without education.

DOWSHAW: Well, aw can't hev it wi' it, onnyway, but if they'se out aw can do for ya het hel help ta mak' ya happy, om willing ta  do  it—or  offer missel  if  aw  could.

GRACE: My trouble is, nothing has been heard of Seth Ogden  all  these years.

DOWSHAW:  An'  do  ya expect him turning up?

GRACE: Yes, I shall never give him up until I know for certain  he  is  dead.

DOW: It's a lot o' bother is uncertainty, for sewer. Aw used ta think sooa when aw first went wi' Emma Martin, but sho snapped ma up like a maase-trap hez sooin hez aw gav' her t' chance—a kind o' spider-an'-fly business, ya know, an' naah we're wed, sho does moor snapping ner ivver. Aw nivver care haah fast sho talks, er haah sho calls me, hez lang hez sho doesn't sulk. An' aw like her what sooart ov a mood sho's in.

GRACE: That shows you love her. She's a good-hearted girl,  Dowshaw.     But I must be  going.

DOWSHAW: It's a pity ower Seth. Aw wish he wod come back, for moor things ner one. Sooa good-day, Miss Bell, an keep yer pecker up.     Om pleeased ov met ya.

GRACE:   Good-day,   Dowshaw.

ACT IV—Scene 3.

THE   HOME-COMING.       SCENE—NED   DRIVER'S   " PUB."

(Enter  Ned,   followed  by  Seth   Ogden,   disguised   and   pretending to be very deaf.)

NED: This way, sir. Sit daan a bit, an' ol attend to ya in-a few minutes.

SETH: I am deaf, sir.

NED: Deeaf, are ya?    (Pointing to a chair)     Sit daan.    (Exit) (Seth  places  his  portmanteau  on   the  floor, takes   a  seat,   and has  a good   look  round  the  place.)

SETH: Back again in my native village, after an absence of over five years. Many changes, no doubt, will have taken place. I shall make this house my headquarters for a few weeks. Oh! I wonder if Grace Bell is still alive and unmar­ried, if her father and mother are still alive—one hundred and one things I am anxious to know. My brain feels all confused, but I shall have to find out for myself. I dare not make in­quiries, lest they discover who I am, and that will upset my plans. What name shall I give? Why not use my Californian name, Glossy?—Mr. Glossy. I must remain unknown to any body. I think my disguise is satisfactory, even my old enemy will not recognise me. The part of pretended deafness is a fine stroke. Perhaps I may learn many things from the people who  congregate here.

(Enter Ned.)

NED:  Well, sir, what is it you're seeking?

SETH: Was you saying something?

NED (shouting in his ear): What do you want?

SETH: Oh, eggs and home-fed ham, if you have it.

NED (shouting): Is it diggings yer after?—Lodgings—do ya want ta stop here?

SETH: Can you let me have rooms for three weeks?

NED:  Can ya pay?  (tapping his pocket). SETH:     How  much  do  you  want,  and  I   will  pay  you  in advance ?

NED: Twelve bob a wick (holding up both hands and two fingers).

SETH:  Here is  the money   (handing money).

NED: Ol mak' ya aght o' receipt for it it. Supper hel be ready in hauf-an-haar.

SETH:  What  do  you say?

NED: Supper (imitating drinking, and rubbing his stomach —showing his  watch).

SETH: No, thank you, I don't take drink.

NED:  Supper aw said.

SETH:. Oh,  thank you.     I will wait here until  it is  ready. Will you please take my portmanteau to my room?     (Sits read ing newspaper, apart from the other tables). (Enter  Dowshaw  and   Jack   Harden.      Seth  never   looks   up   at their entrance.)

DOWSHAW : Here, Ned, get Jack an' me a gill  apiece.

NED: All reight.

DOWSHAW: Ye've getten a stranger here ta-neet, Ned. Is he  stopping here?

NED: I, he comes fra America er somewheear abrooad, bi t' labels  on  t'   luggage.

HARDEN:  He  doesn't  seem   ta   tak'   mich  nooatice  on  hez.

NED: Nooatice—he's hez deeaf hez a door-nail. Aw can mak'  nawther moss  ner  sand  on him.

DOWSHAW: Hang it! Ol try him up. Hallow, mate! (Louder)    Hallow, mate!

(Seth  looks up, then  goes  on  with  his  reading.)

DOWSHAW:   He's   deeaf   enough.   Ye've   a   job   on,   Ned.

NED: Aw expect aw sal get used to him, aw can mak' him understand best wi' signs.

HARDEN: Wheear's Stubbin ta-neet? It's summat fresh net ta see him caared on.

NED: He'll come sooiner ner aw want him—but ol bring ya yer ale in.     (Exit).

DOWSHAW: Doesn't ta think Stubbin's getten to abaat bot­tom o' t' ladder

HARDEN: I, he's come a cropper, reight.

DOWSHAW: He was a different chap five or six yeears since —we were flayed on him het Gibb Hill theear. Dos't ta re­member it?

HARDEN: Dooan't mention that, Dowshaw; that chap might owerhear some ov hez talk.

DOWSHAW:  Net he,  he's  hez  deeaf  hez   a   stooan  wall,  be-he'd hev nooa idea what we were talking abaat.

HARDEN   (to  stranger,  aloud):   What's  yer  name,   sir?

SETH:  What?

HARDEN  (loudly):  What's  yer name? -N—A—I—M.

SETH:  Name?     Mr.  Glossy, of California.

HARDEN: It's like talking to a gatepost; aw sal be hooarse if aw talk sa lang ta Mr. Glossy, soa om baan ta leeave him alooon.

DOWSHAW: He wants ta gooa back ta California, er wheear he conies fra, an' get his ears weshed aat.

HARDEN: Tha sudn't say sooa, Dowshaw.     It's nowt he can

help.      Blest  if  ther'   isn't  Stubbin  coining   .     He  looks   abaat three sheets ta't wind ta start with.

"DOWSHAW: Aw dooan't think he ivver is quite sober naah; he's made a bonny fooil ov hissel hez Stubbin.

HARDEN:  I,  an'  ov  other  foaks besides.

(Enter Stubbin, very shabbily dressed, red nose and besotted appearance.      Sits   down   at   table   with   Dowshaw   and  Harden.)

STUBBIN: Good-evening,  gentlemen.

DOWSHAW: Good-evening, Mr. James Stubbin.

STUBBIN: Thank you, sir. I'm a gentleman, though a bit down on my luck.

HARDEN: Ye used ta be aboon setting het same table hez us.

DOWSHAW: I, he's gi'en ower asking Ned ta put him i' t' parlour,  naah.

STUBBIN:   You   shut  up—don't   skit   at   me!

HARDEN: He used to sneer het us becos we'd two er three pint's chalked up het slate, but ye've come ta t' chalking days yersel,  Stubbin—Mr. Stubbin,  aw meean.

STUBBIN: What the dickens are you trying on—throwing out these nasty hints reflecting on my character, in the presence   of   a   stranger?

HARDEN: That chap can hear nowt.

STUBBIN:  What's  the matter with him—deaf?

HARDEN: Deeaf hez a poast. -We can mak' nowt on him. Ned can't,  nawther.

STUBBIN (goes to stranger and offers his hand): Here's my hand.

SETH  (lifts up his hand in objection):  Not with strangers.

STUBBIN   (loudly):   Deaf,   arn't  you?

SETH (shaking his head).

STUBBIN   (louder):   Can't you hear?

SETH:   Don't  take   beer.

DOWSHAW:  Try yer  luck  ageean,  Stubbin.

STUBBIN:   Are  you   lodging  here? SETH:  What?

STUBBIN:  Are  you  lodging  here?—lodging  here?

SETH: No dodging about me.

STUBBIN (going back to his seat): That bloke's no company, anyhow.   Here, Ned.  (Enter Ned.)     Small whiskey.

NED: Ye've a fair scoor chalked up already, Stubbin; aw shan't   allow  mich  moor.

STUBBIN: I'll see you get it, Ned; nothing like a. good character.

HARDEN: Didn't aw tell ya, Dowshaw? He's using t' slate hissel het steead ov us. Tha's fairly come daan i' t' world sin' t'  fire het Gillbeck Mill.

STUBBIN: Don't mention Gillbeck Mill in my hearing; 1 object to it.

DOWSHAW: They'se somebody getten hod het rey't tale abaat that neet on  Gibb Hill, when ya finished off Seth Ogden.

STUBBIN: Aye, and it's one of you sneaking curs that's let it out.

HARDEN: We were silly mugs for net telling het time an' heving ya brought ta justice.

STUBBIN: I believe it's Harden who let it out.

HARDEN: It's time somebody said summat; it's been hushed up lang enough.

DOWSHAW: If ivver tha'rt run in, Stubbin, Harden an' 1 shall tell all we know abaat job—we sal gooa in for cleearing hessel.

HARDEN: Let's be going; we'l leeave Stubbin ta talk a bit wi' t' foreigner.

STUBBIN: .If you're going, I'm not staying.

(Exit Dowshaw,  Harden,  and  Stubbin.)

SETH: My pretended deafness and disguise nave answered all I anticipated. From what I gather, Dowshaw and Harden were witnesses of what transpired on Gibb Hill. James Stubbin, for your own good and the good of the village, you shall pay the penalty.

ACT IV.—Scene 4.

SCENE—LANDSCAPE.      "The  Stranger  takes  steps."

(Enter  Policeman  and   Seth Ogden,  With  ear  trumpet,  in  con­versation,  Policeman   speaking  in   a  loud  tone   throughout  the conversation).

POLICEMAN: Ye can hear better ta-day ner ye can some­times.

SETH: Yes, this ear-trumpet makes a wonderful lot of difference, but I seldom use it.

POLICEMAN: Depends whether it suits ya ta heear, eh? An old bird, you are. Ya see, aw can put things together—that comes thro' experience as an arm of the law. To business: what do you want me for?

SETH: I instruct you to arrest James Stubbin.

POLICEMAN: Jim Stubbin! I, but on what charge hev aw to arrest him? An' wheear do ya get yer authority? Om't Bobby,  net ye.

SETH: On the charge of attempted murder and misappro­priating money.

POLICEMAN: What! Murder did ya say? Goodness me! What were that lang word ya used, abaat money ? Aw expect it meeans steealing.

SETH: Yes, that is what it really means.

POLICEMAN: Am aw expected ta do this from the instruc­tions ov a foreigner? Ye might do things in a looyse way wheear ye come fra, but we do things in order i' this country. I am the officer of the law.

SETH: I want you to get a warrant for his arrest. If you apply to headquarters, at Skipton,. you will get one—they arc conversant with the facts of the case.

POLICEMAN: If ye'd done yer duty, ye'd 'a come ta me first. I am the head constable of this village.     Can ya prove yer case?

SETH: You obey instruction. The proving will have to be done in a court of justice.

POLICEMAN: Ya deliver t' case inta my hands, then—is it a safe job? If aw thowt it worn't, aw wodn't hev owt ta do wi't.

SETH: But you are the man we look to. to see the law carried out.

POLICEMAN: But ov nivver been mixed up in a murder job before, an' it gives ma t' creeps ta think abaat it.

SETH: Do your duty, that is all I ask.

POLICEMAN: Me, a servant of the law, shrinking from duty —never!     If  aw come  aght on t'  top it may meean  another stripe an' a bit moor wage—an' aw could do with it, too.  SETH: Good day; get to work as soon as you oan.

POLICEMAN: What name, please? We mun hev all in order.     Name, sir?

SETH: Mr. Glossy, of Sandy Creek, California.       (Exit).

POLICEMAN: Aw mun think on a that name. Aw pre­tended ta tak' the name an' address; it wodn't do ta lower mi dignity. Ol get wife ta write it daan when aw get hooam. Attempted murder—aw sal figure i' t' newspapers, for once, onnyhaah. But if Jim Stubbin's attempted ta murder some­body, aw hooap he'l net try it on wi' me when aw arrest him. Om nooan sa up het job. But aw s'al hev ta do it when some­body's abaat. It hel happen be t' better way—net het om flayed, oh, now! .  (Exit).

ACT IV.—Scene 5.

MALSIS  FAIR-THE  ARREST.     LANDSCAPE. (Enter   Dowshaw   and  Harden   from   opposite   sides.)

DOWSHAW: What, tha's getten daan ta Malsis Fair, then? They'se fairly some folk abaat, an' aw think aw nivver saw moor sheep.

HARDEN: I, an' they can fairly get shut o' ther brass, anole, het sich spots hez this; ov varry little left aght ov a bob. They'se stalls all t' way daan side o' t' rooad. They'se brandy-snap, indi-rock, hot pies, hazel nuts, an' sausages—it made me hungry  when  aw saw 'em.

DOWSHAW: I, they'se nearly all t' folk aght o' t' village daan here. They'll fairly 'a been some hunting up for Malsis Fair sticks.   I, an' they'se even Jim Stubbin here.

HARDEN: I, but ol bet he's i' t' pub; he's nooan interested i' sheep is Stubbin.

DOWSHAW: A'ar Bobby's fairly knocking abaat—aw dooan't know what he hez agate.

HARDEN: Aw thowt he seemed ta be looking for somebody.

DOWSHAW: Ov seen him following a man abaat ivver sa lang.

HARDEN: Sooa he is,  an'  he seems flayed  o' tackling him.

DOWSHAW: Aw believe it's Jim Stubbin. I, it is—aw wonder what he wants him for?

HARDEN: Om nooan baan ta see; we've hed enough truck wi' Jim.

DOWSHAW: Let's mak' a move. He's coming this way, Bobby an' ole.       (Exit).

(Enter Jim Stubbin.)

STUBBIN: That cursed policeman is always at my heels.     wonder what he wants?   No  one is about here just now.     I'll give   him  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to me,   if   he  wants   to speak.     I'm not afraid of a policeman. (Enter Policeman.)

POLICEMAN: Is your name James Stubbin?

 

STUBBIN: Of course it is—you know that. What do you want?

POLICEMAN: Certainty is the method of the Force. I have a warrant here tor your arrest.

STUBBIN: Arrest!—Arrest!     I'm not drunk!

POLICEMAN: I arrest you on the charge of attempted murder and—and—stealing.

STUBBIN: Take that, you wretch (knocking policeman to the ground). What business have you to interfere -with me with your trumped-up case?   That isn't half what you deserve.

POLICEMAN (getting up): Aw wer' nobbut doing mi duty, an' if ya use violence ageean aw shall do t" game (showing his bludgeon).

(Enter Pinder,  also Dowshaw and Harden.)

POLICEMAN: Here, Pinder and Harden, seize him, wol aw handcuff him!

{They seize him  and hold him fast,  Policeman  doing nothing, only handcuffs him.)

PINDER: What! Jim Stubbin, aw allus said od tak' it aght on ya when aw gat owder—ov lots o' grudges agean ya.

STUBBIN: Who has ordered my arrest? (Enter Mr. Glossy.)

SETH:  I have.   Why  do you ask?

STUBBIN: I'll make you pay a heavy penalty for this— having arrested a honest man! My worst fault is drinking. A grand specimen of the law you are to take any notice of a foreigner—some scapegoat who has come here to evade justice.

(Enter Sol Watson and Luke Driver, Emma Martin and Mally Watson.)

SOL WATSON: What is ther' up,  Stubbin?

POLICEMAN: Don't interfere with the prisoner. (Enter Mr. and Mrs. Bell  and Grace.)

GRACE: Oh, father! Do let us get away from this scene-it upsets me.

HARRY BELL: Wait a minute. It's Stubbin they hev hand. cuffed,  isn't it?

GRACE: Yes it is, father. Whatever has he done? I wonder it it has any connection with Seth Ogden?

HARRY BELL: We'll just wait a few minutes, we might get ta know summat.

GRACE: Who is that stranger?                     

SETH: I want to clear my action in having this man arrested. You all know me—(taking off his disguise)—I am Seth . Ogden. (Grace faints, hut quickly recovers). I was thrown down a disused shaft on Gibb Hill by this man. He acknowledged swindling me out of my money and setting fire to Gillbeck Mill. For these charges he is taken into custody and shall pay the full penalty of the law. (To Stubbin) Have you anything to say in defence of your arrest?

STUBBIN: Not to a smooth-tongued wretch like you.

POLICEMAN: Remember, anything you say hel be used i' evidence ageean ya.

SETH:    Take    him    away.    The law  shall  take  its  course. (Exit Policeman and Stubbin). (Grace and Seth rush towards  each other, embrace and kiss.)

SETH: Still mine, Grace?

GRACE: Ever yours, Seth.

(Seth shakes hands with Mr.  and Mrs. Bell.)

DOWSHAW: Harden and I apologise for net doing hez duty that neet on Gibb Hill, but we'l do better i' t' future.     We're

 POLICEMAN: But ov nivver been mixed up in a murder job before, an' it gives ma t' creeps ta think abaat it.

SETH: Do your duty, that is all I ask.

POLICEMAN: Me, a servant of the law, shrinking from duty —never! If aw come aght on t' top it may meean another stripe an' a bit moor wage—an' aw could do with it, too.

SETH: Good day; get to work as soon as you can.

POLICEMAN: What name, please? We mun hev all in order.     Name, sir?

SETH: Mr. Glossy, of Sandy Creek, California.       (Exit).

POLICEMAN: Aw mun think on a that name. Aw pre­tended ta tak' the name an' address; it wodn't do ta lower mi dignity. Ol get wife ta write it daan when aw get hooam. Attempted murder—aw sal figure i' t' newspapers, for once, onnyhaah. But if Jim Stubbin's attempted ta murder some­body, aw hooap he'l net try it on wi' ma when aw arrest him. Om nooan sa up het job. But aw s'al hev ta do it when some­body's abaat. It hel happen be t' better way—net het om flayed, oh, now!  . (Exit).

ACT IV.—Scene 5.

MALSIS  FAIR-THE   ARREST.      LANDSCAPE. (Enter   Dowshaw   and  Harden   from  opposite   sides.)

DOWSHAW: What, tha's getten daan ta Malsis Fair, then? They'se fairly some folk abaat, an' aw think aw nivver saw moor sheep.

HARDEN: I, an' they can fairly get shut o' ther brass, anole, het sich spots hez this; ov varry little left aght ov a bob. They'se stalls all t' way daan side o' t' rooad. They'se brandy-snap, indi-rock, hot pies, hazel nuts, an' sausages—it made me hungry  when  aw saw 'em.

DOWSHAW: I, they'se nearly all t' folk aght o' t' village daan here. They'll fairly 'a been some hunting up for Malsis Fair sticks.   I, an' they'se even Jim Stubbin here.

HARDEN: I, but ol bet he's i' t' pub; he's nooan interested i' sheep is Stubbin.

DOWSHAW: A'ar Bobby's fairly knocking abaat—aw dooan't know what he hez agate.

HARDEN: Aw thowt he seemed ta be looking for somebody.

DOWSHAW: Ov seen him following a man abaat ivver sa lang.

HARDEN:  Sooa he is,  an'  he  seems flayed  o'  tackling him.

DOWSHAW: Aw believe it's Jim Stubbin. I, it is—aw wonder what he wants him for?

HARDEN: Om nooan baan ta see; we've hed, enough truck wi' Jim.

DOWSHAW: Let's mak' a move. He's coming this way, Bobby an' ole.       (Exit).

(Enter Jim Stubbin.)

STUBBIN: That cursed policeman is always at my heels.     1 wonder what he wants?   No  one is about here  just now.     I'll give   him  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to me, ' if   he wants   to speak.     I'm not afraid of a policeman. (Enter Policeman.)

POLICEMAN: Is your name James Stubbin?
is—you know  that.    What  do you

STUBBIN:  Of course  it want?

POLICEMAN: Certainty is the method of the Force. I have a warrant here for your arrest.

STUBBIN: Arrest!—Arrest!     I'm not drunk!

POLICEMAN: I arrest you on the charge of attempted murder and—and—stealing.

STUBBIN: Take that, you wretch (knocking policeman to the ground). What business have you to interfere with me with your trumped-up case?   That isn't half what you deserve.

POLICEMAN (getting up): Aw wer' nobbut doing mi duty, an' if ya use violence ageean aw shall do t' same (showing his bludgeon).

(Enter Pinder,  also Dowshaw and Harden.)

POLICEMAN: Here, Pinder and Harden, seize him, wol aw handcuff him!

<They seize him  and hold him fast,  Policeman  doing  nothing, only handcuffs him.)

PINDER: What! Jim Stubbin, aw allus said od tak' it aght on ya when aw gat owder—ov lota o' grudges agean ya.

STUBBIN: Who has ordered my arrest? (Enter Mr. Glossy.)

SETH:  I have.   Why  do you  ask?

STUBBIN: I'll make you pay a heavy penalty for this— having arrested a honest man! My worst fault is drinking. A grand specimen of the law you are ta take any notice of a foreigner—some scapegoat who has come here to evade justice.

(Enter Sol Watson and Luke Driver,  Emma Martin and Mally Watson.)

SOL WATSON: What is ther' up,  Stubbin?

POLICEMAN: Don't interfere with the prisoner. (Enter Mr.  and Mrs. Bell  and Grace.)

GRACE: Oh, father! Do let us get away from this scene-it upsets me.

HARRY BELL: Wait a minute. It's Stubbin they hev hand­cuffed,  isn't it?

GRACE: Yes it is, father. Whatever has he done? I wonder if it has any connection with Seth Ogden?

HARRY BELL: We'll just wait a few minutes, we might get ta know summat.

GRACE: Who is that stranger?

SETH: I want to clear my action in having this man arrested. You all know me—(taking off his disguise)—I am Seth Ogden. (Grace faints, but quickly recovers). I wag thrown down a disused shaft on Gibb Hill by this man. He acknowledged swindling me out of my money and setting fire to Gillbeck Mill. For these charges he is taken into custody and shall pay the full penalty of the law. (To Stubbin) Have you anything to  say in  defence of your arrest?

STUBBIN: Not to a smooth-tongued wretch like you.

POLICEMAN: Remember, anything you say hel be used i' evidence ageean ya.

SETH:    Take    him    away.    The law  shall  take  its  course. (Exit Policeman and  Stubbin). (Grace and Seth rush towards each other, embrace and kiss.)

SETH: Still mine, Grace?

GRACE: Ever yours, Seth.

(Seth shakes hands with Mr. and Mrs. Bell.)

DOWSHAW: Harden and I apologise for net doing hez duty that neet on Gibb Hill, but we'l do better i' t' future.     We're all pleeased ta see ya back ageean, but—but—we nivver ex­pected it.

PINDER: Let's show hez welcome i' true Yorkshire fashion. "For he's a jolly good fellow."

SETH: Forgive me, Grace, for not letting you know I ,was alive, but I had my reasons for so doing. When I released you from our engagement, I gave you your full liberty, and if I had corresponded with you I should have taken it from you. So now' I have come back and find you still true to me, I can now offer you a position worthy of acceptance. I have made my fortune in California, and all that I have is yours. Will you accept your former lover?

GRACE: The one desire of my life is this day fulfilled—my cup of joy is overflowing. 1 knew you would come back to me, and God has, in His great goodness, brought us together again. Father, get the horse ready, and let us go home—Seth is going to drive back with us.

HARRY BELL: Aw havn't bowl mi sheep yet, an' t' fair hel be owered directly.

GRACE: Don't bother over sheep, today, dad. Seth hag come back, and it is a day of rejoicing.

HARRY BELL: I, hut we man attend to business, though om pleeased Seth's turned up; but it hel be a sad loss ta us when he claims ya.

HANNAH BELL: What ar't ta talking abaat, Harry, hez ta getten sheep on t' brain? It's a wonder tha hasn't wool grow­ing o'