Miss Mary (aloud). I will take your child. More than that, I will take him to his father.
The Duchess. No, no! for God's sake, no, Miss Mary! He has never seen him from his birth: he does not know him. He will disown him.
He will curse him,--will curse me!
Miss Mary. Why should he? Surely his crime is worse than yours.
The Duchess. Hear me, Miss Mary. (Aside.) How can I tell her?
(Aloud.) One moment, miss. I was once--ye may not believe it, miss--as good, as pure, as you. I had a husband, the father of this child. He was kind, good, easy, forgiving,--too good for me, miss, too simple and unsuspecting. He was what the world calls a fool, miss: he loved me too well,--the kind o' crime, miss,--beggin' your pardon, and all precepts to the contrairy,--the one thing that women like me never forgives. He had a pardner, miss, that governed him as HE never governed me; that held him with the stronger will, and maybe ME too. I was young, miss,--no older than yourself then; and I ran away with him,--left all, and ran away with my husband's pardner. My husband--nat'rally--took to drink.
I axes your pardin', miss; but ye'll see now, allowin' your larnin', that Alexander Morton ain't the man as will take my child.
Miss Mary. Nonsense. You are wrong. He has reformed; he has been restored to his home,--your child's home, your home if you will but claim it. Do not fear: I will make that right.
Enter SANDY slowly and sheepishly, R.; stops on observing the Duchess, and stands amazed and motionless.
Miss Mary (observing SANDY--aside). He HAS returned. Poor fellow!
How shall I get rid of this woman? (Aloud.) Enough. If you are sincere, I will take your child, and, God help me! bring him to his home and yours. Are you satisfied?
The Duchess. Thank ye! Thank ye, miss; but--but thar's a mistake somewhar. In course--it's natural--ye don't know the father of that child, my boy Tommy, under the name o' Alexander Morton.
Ye're thinking, like as not, of another man. The man I mean lives yer, in this camp: they calls him Sandy, miss,--SANDY!
Miss Mary (after a pause, coming forward passionately). Hush! I have given you my answer, be it Alexander Morton or Sandy. Go now: bring me the child this evening at my house. I will meet you there. (Leads the DUCHESS to wing. The DUCHESS endeavors to fall at her feet.)
The Duchess. God bless you, miss!
Miss Mary (hurriedly embracing her). No more, no more--but go!
[Exit DUCHESS. MISS MARY returns hurriedly to centre, confronting SANDY.
Miss Mary (to SANDY, hurriedly and excitedly). You have heard what that woman said. I do not ask you under what alias you are known here: I only ask a single question.--Is SHE your wife? are you the father of her child?
Sandy (sinking upon his knees before her, and covering his face with his hands). I am!
Miss Mary. Enough! (Taking flower from her bosom.) Here, I give you back the flower you gave me this morning. It has faded and died here upon my breast. But I shall replace it with your foundling,--the child of that woman, born like that flower in the snow! And I go now, Sandy, and leave behind me, as you said this morning, the snow and rocks in which it bloomed. Good-by!
Farewell, farewell--forever! (Goes toward schoolhouse as--Enter COL. STARBOTTLE.
Miss Mary (to STARBOTTLE). You are here in season, sir. You must have come for an answer to your question. You must first give me one to mine. Who is this man (pointing to SANDY), the man you met upon the rocks this morning?
Col. Starbottle. Ahem! I am--er--now fully prepared and responsible, I may say, miss--er--personally responsible, to answer that question. When you asked it this morning, the ordinary courtesy of the--er--code of honor threw a--er--cloak around the--er--antecedents of the--er--man whom I had--er--elected by a demand for personal satisfaction, to the equality of myself, an--er--gentleman! That--er--cloak is now removed. I have waited six hours for an apology or a--er--reply to my demand. I am now free to confess that the--er--person you allude to was first known by me, three months ago, as an inebriated menial,--a groom in the household of my friend Don Jose Castro,--by the--er--simple name of "Diego."
Miss Mary (slowly). I am satisfied. I accept my cousin's invitation.
[Exit slowly, supported by COL. STARBOTTLE, R.
As STARBOTTLE and MISS MARY exeunt R., CONCHO and HOP SING enter cautiously, L. SANDY slowly rises to his feet, passes his hand across his forehead, looks around toward exit of STARBOTTLE and MISS MARY.
