The Tyrants of Gillbeck Mill.

Credits: David Hoyle

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

Printed and Published by Watmoughs Limited, Idle, Bradford. who Reserve All Rights.

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 com­ing 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 bethankful 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 on) Ned’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’ thi oan back. Tha thinks moor abaat thi stock ner tha does abaat thi oan lass. Gooa yooak up, an’ let’s get hooam. We’l hev a thanksgiving party het Warier Farm ta-neet, an’ hez lang hez aw live aw sal nivver forget this Malsis Fair. Ye’ll gooa back with hex, Seth?
SETH: Go back with you? Certainly I shall. Never was toil so richly rewarded. I am reaping a golden harvest to-day. And soon, dear friends, you will hear the wedding bells—the re­sult of a true and tested love, if Grace is tired of waiting.
GRACE: The rich reward is well worth the long years ol’ suspense and waiting. It is only love which has kept me up; love never faileth. The dawn of the future is tinged with gold. Friends, I would ask you to rejoice with me, for this, my lover, was dead, and is alive again—he was lost, and is found.

CURTAIN.