_Mrs Bar._ How could he have known anything about Nelly Armstrong?
_Lucy._ Nelly Armstrong! Did he mention her name?
_Mrs Bar._ Yes; he asked me where she was, and says, that she was my accomplice.
[_Lucy remains in thought._
_Old Bar._ Lucy, why don"t you comfort your mother? One would think you were leagued with Peter.
_Lucy._ I, father!
_Old Bar._ Yes, you--you are not yourself. Pray have you heard anything of this before? (_Lucy silent._) Answer me, girl, I say, have you before heard anything of this?
_Lucy._ I have.
_Old Bar._ And pray from whom?
_Lucy._ From a strange quarter, and most strangely told. I am not well, father. [_Lucy bursts into tears, and Exit._
_Old Bar._ (_after a pause, looking his wife earnestly in the face_).
Why, Dame Bargrove, how is this? Lucy is not a fool, and she is evidently of the same opinion as Peter. (_Walks up and down the room, and betrays much agitation._) Dame, dame, if, for foolish love of thine own children, and I see that thou lovest the other two, as well, if not better than, these--if, I say, thou hast done this great wrong, down on thy knees, and confess it! Guilt can never prosper, and reparation must be made.
_Mrs Bar._ (_throwing herself on her knees before her husband_). On my knees, husband, I swear to you, before G.o.d, that these children, Peter and Lucy, were born to me, and are the fruits of our marriage. May I never prosper in this world, and lose all hope of mercy in the next, if I speak not now the truth.
_Old Bar._ (_taking up his wife and kissing her_). I do believe thee, dame, thou hast ever been honest; but there is mischief brewing, and we must find out who are the authors of this report. Come, cheer up! All will be discovered, and all will be well.
[_Exeunt ambo; Old Bargrove leading off and caressing Mrs Bargrove._
_Act III. Scene I._
_A wood.--Enter Bill and d.i.c.k._
_d.i.c.k._ Well, Bill, what do ye say to it--will it do?
_Bill._ Can"t tell--been thinking on it all night. Don"t much like the consarn. There be too many on "en.
_d.i.c.k._ Yes, and there be a mortal lot of plate, Bill, all kept in the butler"s pantry. I met a servant at a public-house, who is going away, a sea chap, drinking malt like a fish, and I wormed all out of him. I think it be an easy job. The butler be fat and pursey. The Admiral be old and toothless.
_Bill._ That"s all right, so far, d.i.c.k; but then there be the two young officers just come down.
_d.i.c.k._ Yes, but I finds that they sleep quite t"other end of the house altogether; and d"ye see, Bill, the plate be only left out because they be come to the Hall. When they"re off, the best of the pewter will be all locked up again; so, it"s no use to wait till they start off. Come, what d"ye say, Bill? Jack and Nim be both of my mind. I see"d them this morning.
_Bill._ (_thoughtfully_). It be hanging matter, d.i.c.k.
_d.i.c.k._ Why, yes--so it be, if so be as we be found out first, and caught arterwards--and then go to "sizes--and then a true bill be given--and then we be found guilty, and arter all, gets no reprieve; but there be as many a slip between the noose and the neck, as there be "tween the cup and the lip.
_Bill._ Well, d.i.c.k, I tell ye what, I"ve no objection to stand outside, and help carry off.
_d.i.c.k._ That be all we wants. One must look to the nag and cart, and that one must be you. Gie"s your hand on it. [_They shake hands._
_Bill._ But I say, d.i.c.k, does Nelly know the business in hand?
_d.i.c.k._ Not yet.
_Bill._ I"ve an idea she won"t allow it. I heard her talk summit about conscience--or the like of it.
_d.i.c.k._ Talk about fiddlesticks. Show her the pewter and she"ll snap her fingers. Here she comes. I"ll let her into the gammon.
_Enter Nelly._
_Nelly._ Well, lads; what"s in the wind?
_d.i.c.k._ Summit worth sneezing at, Nell. We are up to a rig to-night. Got a bit of a frolic for pewter.
_Nelly._ Aye, boys, where?
_d.i.c.k._ At the Hall here.
_Nelly._ It won"t do.
_d.i.c.k._ Yes, but it will though.
_Nelly._ Yes it will do for you (_pointing to her neck_). I know the Hall well. It must not be thought of.
_d.i.c.k._ But we _have_ thought on it, and _will_ think on it. We be all determined, so there be an end of the matter, and an end of your palaver.
_Nelly._ I say no!
_d.i.c.k._ None o" your gammon--pewter arn"t to be picked up in the highways. The thing be settled.
_Nelly._ Think no more on it.
_d.i.c.k._ You mind your own business, missus. Go and tell fortunes to fools and women; leave men alone.
_Nelly._ I can tell your fortune. A dance in the air till you are out of breath.
_d.i.c.k._ Didn"t require a wise woman to find out that. (_Aside._) But we must keep our eyes upon her--she"s queer. (_Aloud._) Come Bill. [_Exeunt Bill and d.i.c.k._
_Nelly sola._
Am I so fallen, never to recover? Must I sink deeper and deeper with these villains? Since I joined them they have never yet attempted anything like this. Petty theft, to support existence, I have partic.i.p.ated in, but nothing more. Can I retreat? Ah, when I look upon these hills, and remember the time when I roved here, careless, innocent, and happy, how often do I wish that I could retrace my steps!
Yonder is the church where I used to pray. How long is it now since I have dared perform that sacred duty? Yet, how often, since I have returned to this spot, have I longed to fall upon my knees! But I am an outcast. Pride and vanity have made me so, and pride has reduced me so to remain, although I loathe myself, and those connected with me. This intention of theirs has, however, resolved me. The deed shall not take place. I will, by some means, warn them at the Hall--a letter, but how to get it there? It shall be done, and done directly. They can but murder me if I am discovered, and what is my life now?--a burden to myself. [_Exit._
_Scene II._