First produced at the New Surrey Theatre, (under the management of Messrs. Shepherd and Creswick), on Monday 10th February, 1868.
Place: North Devonshire. Time: Present day.
An interval of one month is supposed to elapse between first and second acts.
Duration of performance—One Hour and Fifty-five Minutes
Well I'm reg'lar run off my legs, and that's just about the size of it. We have got a tidy
houseful at the "Rose and Crown" this here eventful day—
I say, waiter how's this ?
Which it is a comin' up at this identical moment sir—half-past one was the precise time,
sir ;
What a delightful thing it
ought to be
obliged to me, racketty young dog ! but for my timely and (ahem !) disinterested
assistance, he would have been at this moment in prison: thanks to me this ruined
spendthrift has secured a wife with a snug fortune. He borrowed five thousand of me, to
deposit at his banker's, for a week, decoy
for his worthy father-in-law. I advanced the money, in the way of business, on strong
security ; for this little accommodation I charge my young friend the reasonable interest of
a thousand pounds; on the strength of which little bonus I have consented to officiate as
"best man" on this auspicious occasion,
Ah! Mr Sands, there you are ! good man you are ! you seem to divide
your time equally between business and benevolence. I say, how about that "Coal and
Counterpane Society" you so lately started ?
My dear Raffles, don't mention it! The contemplation of the happiness of others, is the only thing that enables me to endure the wearisome tribulations of this mundane existence !
I only wish there were a few more like you !
I don't—too many of us wouldn't get on!
Breakfast on table—ladies and gents is a coming in from lawn !
I'm delighted to hear it, for I confess to being ravenously hungry,
Right! Sands, right!
I wish the Social Farmers and their dinner were at Jericho—my father insists upon my
attending, he says its a mark of respect the squire's son owes to the "agricultural interest"
of the neighbourhood, you to try
your luck. Vainly have I disguised myself, and assumed the speech and manners of a
mechanic."
So !
Well, I don't so much like the looks of this here "Rose and Crown" —strikes me it's a cut
or two above my usual figure ; howsumever, my purfessiunal exertions ha' given me such a
plaguey sharp appetite, I must have a snack o' summat som'w'eres, I don't
indoocin' 'em to take it away ag'in they arn't got no notion o' the wally o' time
in the prowinces ! Why only a minnit ago, a respectable father of a family, in a smock frock,
had the imperence to ask if I couldn't let him and his wife, and his fourteen children have a
peep for the combined sum of twopence- halfpenny—why, they'd ha' been a week over it! But now
then—
What a seedy looking customer !
Yer ain't got such a thing as a trotter ?
A what!
You've heard of a pig, I suppose ? trotter is the part of the hanimal he generally trots about upon.
Don't deal in that style o' article at the "Rose and Crown."
That's a pity—trotters is werry nice things, you know, with a baked tater.
No, we ain't—we don't lay ourselves out for customers o' your sort.
Don't you though—that's another pity.
We've got some cold boiled beef— that's the only harticle in your line as we're
likely to have.
Ah, bit o' boiled beef will do—boiled beef and a pickled hingin ——
Beef and pickles, werry good. ons,
hingins. I'll look sharp arter his money !
This will be a ninepenny touch, at the werry least! Ah! I'm always glad when
sprats is in season, for then you can have a "tightener " for a penny. I'll
just put the "hinstitution " out o' harm's way while I'm a partakin' o' this here
ruination festiwity! his dooty
by land or sea!
No, I was not mistaken—for I saw the very carriage at the inn door,
must be here ! will deliver this parcel and make
further enquiries.
Nice looking young party that, with the band-box—strikes me I saw her in the market-place
just now, while I was a hillustrating the hentertainment.
Beef and hingins!
How much ?
Beef, bread, hingons—tenpence- halfpenny.
Tenpence-halfpenny ! three-halfpence beyond my wildest anticipations, now ?
A—a—ain't you going to remember the waiter ?
Of course I am—I'll never forget him as long as I live.
Well, that's a new dodge that is ! this is a haristocratic
customer !
They don't seem to set any special wally on my custom at this here "Rose and Crown"—they've
put me all among the draughts ; I'll just turn up the collar of my coat, for gen'l'men in my
purfession are obligated to be werry careful o' their wocal organs. expensive!
Very good, I'll come back for the box presently,
Halloa, here she is again !
I had hoped the landlady would ask me to wait—I am sure I saw the same carriage at
the door.
A—a—don't apologize—you ain't a disturbing me in the least, hinstitooshun —a—a—" The grand broadsword combat for the championship, between the
Emperor Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington, at the battle of Bunker's Hill! "
No, thank you.
Now then, waiter, where the devil's the waiter ? —there's no wine on the table.
As I live, young Squire Merton, who sent me that impertinent letter—a—a—I will avoid him.
Confound their strong ale, it has got into my head already.
Halloa, shiver my timbers, the gent in the welverteens is a hyeing the little craft with the band-box!
I've caught you at last, have I, you flinty-hearted little creature—why didn't you answer my letter ?
That letter was an insult, sir—let go my hand.
Bravo, that's the way to talk to him.
Ah, that's what you. pretty girls always say, but you don't mean it, not a bit of it.
Let go my hand, sir!
Never, till you promise to meet me, this evening, near the elm trees at the bend of the river.
I will promise nothing of the kind!
Whenever I sees a female in distress, why shiver my timbers, I feels the British sailor a
rewiving in my purfessional bosom,
By Jove! I may never have such a chance again—hang the agricultural interest, I'll leave
the "Social Farmers" in the lurch,
And supposing you ain't found her alone?
Eh ! who's with her ?
There are two on us with her; first and foremost, there's this
individual, this little fellow—partickler friend—hallow me to introdooce him !
Scoundrel! do you dare threaten a gentleman!
Judging by his actions I wasn't aware I was haddressing one—howsumever, this here's to say
that Jack Trudget is nat'rally excitable by natur', and that if you don't leave that 'ere
young creetur alone, why it may be just a trifle the wus for you!
What seedy vagabond is this!
Wagabond! does come down, he's apt to come
down handsome !
This to me—why who the devil are you?
Well, I ain't had my cards printed yet, but I'll have a few struck off if you particklarly
wishes it. am about it, I'll just give welverteens one for himself !
Sir, I entreat——
I never was so insulted in all my life—I'll give the fellow a sound thrashing!
You will!
Halloa! why dash ma' boottons, here be a mill!
Ho! ho! why here be young squire a fighting the peep-show man I seed in the market-place!
Peep-show man ! hang it all, I can't stoop to thrash a peep-show man!
P'raps it's as well you didn't stoop—you mightn't find it so easy to get up
again !
We shall meet again where none can come between us—for the present
peep-show
man!
Come along, squire, come along—fighting a peep-show man—ha, ha, ha!
Fighting a peep show man—ho, ho, ho !
Peep-show man indeed! in another moment the peep-show man his weak nerves, and no mistake !
howsumever, he's had a lesson in purliteness— he'll know how to behave to a respectable young
female another time, warehouse-room, or summat or
other. I must be resoomin' my purfessional dooties.
Going! not till I have thanked you for the protection you so kindly afforded me.
Mary, Maries, and plenty
o' Fannies, and no end o' Susan Janes; but it's a Margaret as
I'm, looking for, and Margarets seem scarce—howsumever, I s'pose she'll turn, up
some day, which
Perhaps this kind hearted fellow might help me to find out Paul,
Confide in me !
You must know sir—
In love!
In love, and engaged to be married —
Oh !
He is a young carpenter of the name of Paul—he works at a factory at a neighbouring town; he told me he had got a little money in the savings bank, and hoped soon to be in a position to marry me.
A—a—werry satisfactory.
Oh, sir ! do you know I love him so dearly, that if anything were to happen to
prevent our union, I could not possibly survive it, and, all—until this very morning !
Oh, you have seen him this morning ?
Yes, as I was approaching this town. an elegant carriage and pair passed me on the road! I looked round—who should I see inside but my beloved Paul?
A carpenter in a carriage? I can't see how he got there, unless he was a repairing
on it!
No he wasn't—he was dressed in the most fashionable manner, with a massive gold chain and a flower in his button-hole !
Hum! I shouldn't ha' minded the flower in his button-hole, but carpenters don't do much
massive" line out o' thirty bob a week—you're sure you ain't
mistaken ?
Mistaken ! do you think I could mistake the only man I ever loved ? there was some one with him—quite a gentleman—my heart misgives me, it seems incredible that Paul, a poor carpenter, should be riding in a carriage, side by side with a real gentleman !
It ain't the usual style o' arrangement certainly, chiselling somebody !
On arriving here, with a little parcel for the landlady, I found the same carriage waiting
at the door,
But you see hearts is apt to make mistakes.
There's a secret, I'm convinced of it, and now that I am here, I'll not leave the house till I know what's going on!
You mean to find out what his little game is ?
Yes, but
I—oh, yes—of course,
Now I wonder if Paul will be angry with me for watching him thus—nay, he will forgive
me—for I am sure he loves me dearly, and yet there was a strange accent in his voice when he
last bade me goodbye—
He ain't in the tap-room, and seein' as how he's a journeyman carpenter he can't be among
the "Social Farmers—" howsomever, I may as well have a look, helegant hartisan.
Not there, where can he be?
Well, by jingo, they are a merry party.
What another merry party ?
In course,—there's a wedding breakfast in No. 1, musicianers from London, and all the delicacies of the season.
Coming!
Well, I suppose it ain't o' no use looking for a carpenter among all the delicacies of the season.
The waiter has left the door open—I think I should just like to take a peep.
A "peep " by all means, I suppose they don't charge nothink.
Gentlemen! I give you the health of my esteemed friend, the bridegroom !
"The health of the bridegroom!" I hope he's got his speech ready.
A strange, vague fear overcomes me——
That voice !
I assure you this really is the proudest moment of my life——
Why, 'tis Paul's ! ! !
The carpenter ! why he's a returning thanks!
Yes! 'tis Paul! !
I thank you in my own name, and in that of—my wife!
His wife !!
Why the carpenter's been and got spliced !!
His wife!
The wagabond ! he's been making up to the pair on 'em— one for money,
t'other for amusement—he's been and disguised hisself as a carpenter to
delood the poor village girl's unsuspecting imagination ! Nice notions of amusement these
gentlemen have—they seem to think a poor girl's heart is a cricket-ball, a thing
they may knock about just as they please ! don't take on in this style you know, the willain ain't worth thinking
of.
His wife ! my short lived dream of happiness is over—the bitter truth now dawns before me.
Here I say—stop! you, Jack Trudget, where she's off to ? p'ra'ps it's as well she is off! so now
then, Jack Trudget, you've a sacred dooty to perform Jack Trudget—the spoony business ain't
in your line, so no nonsense, if you please, Mr. Trudget.
Those bridesmaids are making such a frightful noise, I can't stand it any longer—it's like
a chorus of insane magpies ! I've secured my hat and coat and I'll be off !
What is it! why it's my peep-show, when you've done with it!
Confound these vulgar fellows, they are always in the way!
There's a summut in that ere gen'l'man's face as reminds me o' old times—
Howsumever—
Now then, Sands, don't leave the festive scene—
Sands !
Come along, Sands, an interesting toast!
Sands! that's the first time I've heard the name since I left the "Matchless Margaret."
Well, there's nothing very wonderful in being called by one's right name is there ?
Might I venture to ax what the i'other name is ?
My name, fellow, is Goodwin Sands.
Of Eddystone Lodge ?
Of Eddystone Lodge
I knowed there was a look o' my old Captain about him—
What! did you know my brother the captain ?
Know him! why bless your heart, didn't he take me aboard his ship and perwide for me when I
was a-starving in the streets—didn't he save me from being chumped in two by the jaws of a
woracious shark—
Oh ! so you knew Ben, did you ?
Yes, very far, far away !
So much the better—I'm always afraid of his coming back, very hard up, and wanting to
borrow money of me—
Not for a very long time.
Glad to hear it—money saved is better than money earned !
He won't be home, never no more—he's dead!
Dead! dear me! poor Ben ! sorry—'pon my life I am—died very poor, I suppose ? rolling stones don't gather much moss—
Well, he wasn't so badly off for moss—he's left twenty thousand pounds !
Twenty thousand pounds !!!
I knowed it would be a shock to you, but it's of no use giving way—
I know it isn't—I—I must endeavour to keep up— wife's sake, mustn't I!
In course you must—what 'ud your old 'ooman do without you !
A-a-ah! it's a world of trouble, isn't it?
It is for some on us, and no mistake!
A—a—would you like a glass of something ?
No, thank'ee, I ain't thirsty, salt beef—
Twenty thousand pounds— 'twould be a rare lift just now.
You see while the "Matchless Margaret" was a waiting for cargo, the captain had taken a six months lucky turn on it, at the California gold diggings, and was just a sailin' home, when he fell ill, took to his hammock, and gradually got worse and worse——
But he left a will, eh?
You !
Daughter ! what the devil do you mean by daughter ?
What do I mean by daughter? why a female hoffspring, of the feminine
gender.
A daughter! then damn it, I'm done !
Well, he is a heccentric gent, one moment he's a crying, the
next he's a swearin'. you like a glass o'
summat ?
A daughter! but I never heard of his marrying! he must have taken that idiotic
step abroad!
No he didn't—he took that hidiotic step at home—it was what they call a
match on the sly ; he never told any one about it, except me, and that wasn't till his last
illness.
How ! a secret marriage !
One night, your honour, as the poor captain was a lyin' ill in his hammock, he says to me,
says he, " Jack," says he in a mournful tone, " it strikes me as how my time ain't far
off—there's a summit on my mind, Jack, as is a chokin' me, and I can't keep it aboard no
longer. When I'm gone," says he, "make for Old England, seek out my poor wife " "Wife,
captain ? " says I, "why I didn't know you had got a wife !" "Jack," says he, shakin' his
head all sorrowful like, "years ago I married a village lass under a false name, the
name of Mayland,—a year arterwards I took to sea, and deserted her and her child—of
late years, Jack, I've tried hard—hard— Jack—" and the tears rolled down the old captain's
cheeks, " to find 'em out, but all in vain; my wife must ha' left her native village." "Maybe
she's dead, captain," says I, "Maybe—" says he, "maybe:" and the tones o'his woice showed
werry clear that what we calls fun in our young days, is a rare rod in
pickle for us in our old 'uns. "But the daughter," says he, "our Margaret, find
her out, promise me you will, Jack ! I remember," says he, " giving the
child a little gold medallion—the mother tied it to a piece of ribbon, and fastened it round
the child's neck, saying she should wear it in memory of her father! Find her, Jack," says
he, " find her ! on her, on my child, I have settled all I have in the
world!"
That's pleasant, that is! It's really shameful of him to forget his affectionate
brother!
"Jack," says he, and the old captain's voice sank lower and lower every minute, "Jack," says he, " lodge my money and all my property, together with my will, in the hands of the British Consul, at the nearest port we touch at!"
The nearest port!
" There's a bag o' money Jack,"says the old captain in a faint voice, " beneath this
mattress ; it will pay the expenses of your search. Swear, Jack," says he; "swear to obey the
last wishes of your poor old captain!" kind protector and
preserver ! dead!
Poor Ben! very sad—very sad indeed ! faithful individual confoundedly in the way.
Well your honor, what with storms and other misfortunes, it was a whole year afore-I reached Old England's shores again ; as ill luck would have it, I was robbed of my stock of money at a roadside inn, so there was I without a penny in the world to pay expenses ! Now what would you ha' done in such a position ?
Done ! why I'd ha' given it up as a bad job.
Ah! that's what you'd ha' done may be, but when Jack Trudget swears to do a thing
he sticks to it till it is done; so your honour I earned a little money by hard labour, and
bought a peepshow.
Bought a peep-show ! devil did you do
that for ?
Why you see, your honor, the peep-show is a hinstitution as pays travelling expenses, and
leaves a small balance for the refreshment hof the propperietor.
And you really intend to persevere in this wild goose chase ?
Yes your honor—on I goes until I finds my poor old captain's daughter. I devotes
one half o' my time to hexhibition, the other half to minute inwestigation.— I enquires at
all the post offices and public houses, on the road. Up to the present, nobody ain't even so
much as heard the name o' Margaret Mayland.
Margaret Mayland—I must book that name !
Howsumever, I must be going—my investigations in this here village ain't half
finished. I ain't got no time to lose because there was a what you may call it to
the will—a crocodile!
A crocodile ! codicil you mean.
Ah! to be sure, a codicil—I knowed it was a fish o' some sort!
To what effect ?
To the effect that if the daughter warn't found in two years, the property should rewert—a—a—to some'un else.
To whom ? to whom ?
That's just what I never rightly knowed.
The devil take the fellow, he'll drive me out of my mind ! but it must be myself
that the codicil affects; his daughter first, his brother next, of course !
One year and eleven months of the time have passed away, so, you see, I must look sharp.
But one short month—
But p'raps before I go, your honour would just like to have a peep at the " hinstitooshun ? "
No, no ! you say the property—
Just try the grand broadsword combat for the championship between the Duke o' Wellington
and Napoleon Buonaparte, at the battle of Bunker's Hill!
Hang the peep-show !
At Bunker's Hill.
Bunker's Hill!
don't mean
Halloa ! what's up ?
What the devil's that to you? devil of a fellow this is to be sure!
Why there's a mob of people on the river bank,
Why—
Here ! stop ! what the devil are you about ? Confound the fellow, he's going to risk his
life before I'm in possession of the full particulars — distracting!
Dear me what a dreadful noise! what can have happened ?
There's one fool drowning herself, and another trying to save her.
Drowning ?
Twenty thousand pounds at stake—and the clue—the only clue to them
Oh, please, sir, he's got her—he's got her!
Who's got her ?
The peep-show man, sir, he jumped in—
Here, quick! Chambermaid ! housemaid! waiter! boots ! somebody! anybody ! all of you—give this here young woman a glass of hot brandy and water—d'ye hear—hot!
Hot, sir? She shall have it ecstatically hot! brick, blowed if he ain't!
To think, now, it should turn out to be the little beauty with the band-box ! I was afeard she meant mischief!
I say now, don't you go catching cold, you know,
Don't you flurry yourself, water never harmed a true sailor yet!
Brandy and water !! !
Cold! Why, when I think as how I've saved that 'ere young creetur's life, I bursts out into
a glow o' satisfaction as would cure a whole hospital o' the hinfluenzy—
But I say, you know, where is this property lodged ?
In the hands o' the British consul at Baltimore !
Baltimore ? You said Bunker's Hill! improvements !
Oh, Mr. Sands, the poor thing seems quite delirious,—she talks of nothing but "carpenters."
Carpenters! I should ha thought she had had enough o' that class o' hoperative.
And oh, Mr. Sands, here's a little blue pocket-book we found upon her.
It really is excruciatin' to resoom the peep-show business at such a hagonizin'
moment! I 'spose there would be no himpropriety in my just saying goodbye to
her—
Little blue pocket-book! What the devil do I care for a little blue pocket-book.
not Mary Langton, but Margaret Mayland. My father is a sea captain ——"
he is about to set forth
on his wild-goose chase, while the very object of his search remains behind—ha! ha!
She's better! she's better!
Nothing like brandy and water! Another dose of the inwariable, and she'll do!
Glad to hear it—poor thing!
Don't quite know what to make o' this here Goodwin—he must be all right, the brother o' my dear old captain must be one o'
the right sort! deal o' looking arter !
The very thing!
Oh, thank'ee, your honor, thank'ee ! Shiver my timbers, my heart's so full that—a
—a—
Halloa!
Hooray ! I knowed my old captain's brother must be one o' the right sort!
Stay—my brother's daughter —I ought to appear to take an interest in the matter—
Thank'ee your honour,
Please, ladies, the gen'l'men says if you don't come at once, they'll begin dancing by themselves.
O-o-o-oh!
Stay girls, we must see the peep-show map off!
Attempted suicide—and that fellow saved her life ? where is she now ?
Never you mind where she is! his
reach that's—one comfort —
Waiter!
Yes, sir!
A carriage and pair to meet the next train! as soon as this unfortmnate young girl has sufficiently rested, I will convey her home.
"Unfortunate young girl, sir!" yes ! sir.
Convey her home ?
And now then off, off, says the stranger— off—off and away ! Jack Trudget resooms his
woyage o' diskivery. her,
and I'll find your brother's child for you, if I tramp barefooted over the United
Kingdom!
That's right, my man, find her, find her!
Thank'ee, your honor, thank'ee !
Good-bye, peep-show man, good-bye !
Good-bye, peep-show man !
Goodbye ! good-bye! it arn't a easy cruise as lies before me, but I've a stout heart to
brave the storm, a strong arm to guide the helm, and Heaven
Well, shiver my timbers, if I know where I've got to—I'm out of my reck'nin' altogether,—I
must ha' taken a wrong turning at that last cross road, snuggery is this ? the last gen'l'man
as lived here forgot to shut the door arter him! draught for them as likes
fresh air, and the stars is wisible through the roof, which is as good as having
gas laid on, and much more economical! little craft with the
band-box; it's just this werry day month I pulled her out o' the water, just as she
was sinking to rise no more. Summat must ha' directed my steps to Hawthorndean, that'ere
ewentful day, for didn't I have the good luck to run ag'in the brother o' my dear old captain
? Can't think though why he gave me "that 'ere little pocket-book! "Take it," says
he, "it will help you in your search," I fancied he meant five pun flimsies at
least—but when I opened it, there wasn't nothink in it, and nothink never helped
nobody, as ever I heerd on! Ah! it ain't a easy woyage o' discovery as I'm a
sailin' on—I've cruised through eight-and-thirty precious willages in the last four weeks and
not the slightest symptoms of a Margaret Mayland ! I've come across two Margarets,
certainly, but one was a Brown and the other was a Hopkins —so
they warn't o' no use ! old
captain I'd find her, and find her I will ! Halloa! what's that?
Well, this is a rum start! we've lost all trace on him.
I can't think where the blazes this blessed Peep-Show man's got to.
Peep-Show man !
He must ha' taken the t'other turnin' at that there cross road—anyhow he can't be far off.
Right, Jack ; we're sure on him anyhow, so I wotes we has a rest afore we
goes any further, s'pose we sits down in the old ruins, smokes a quiet pipe, and talks over
how we're to keep the Peep-Show man quiet, when we've smugged him aboard!
Smugged him aboard !
me !
It's a mysterious bit o' bis'ness—you see our orders was this here ; we were to lay wait
for this here Peep-Show man, prewail on him to drink a friendly glass with us,
hocuss the liquor, and get him snug aboard our smack the "Jumping Jenny."
The devil you were !
And once we'd got him there, we was to keep him safe under
hatches until further notice.
A werry comfortable way o' bein' purwided for !
It strikes me he knows too much for somebody, and they want to get him
out o' the way ! eh, Bill?
Ah, that's it, Jack—or maybe it's that pocket-book as the Lunnon chap put us up
to.
Pocket-book!
Aye, he said it was a shabby little blue 'un.
That's it sure enough, the one Goodwin Sands gave me !
The cove said we was to make sure o' that pocket-book, whatever we did! well, it's
a rum start anyhow; here be we, two fishermen by name, and smugglers by
natur', promised five pounds each if we can only smug a Peep-Show cove
!
Blowed if I'd care what fish it is, as long as it comes to my net! wby
I'd smug a tax-gatherer for five pounds, let alone a Peep-Show man !
So would I, Jack! I don't care how I gets my livin' as long as I gets it honest !
business in the smugglin' line is bad, there arn't been no wrecks
lately—why, this 'ere peep-show cove is quite a windfall—pass the lantern, Jack, and
let's light up !
There's foul play a preparin' for Jack Trudget, but two on 'em, they looks rayther awkward customers, but shiver my timbers if
one honest sailor isn't ekal to two smuggling wagabones! I'll just interdooce 'em to
Trudget's owe partikler.
The cove's somewhere within half a mile on us—I wonder where the blazes he is ?
Where is he ? Why, HERE he is!!!
Ah! murder!!
You'll smuggle the Peep-Show man, will you?
Oh! what a poke—he's knocked all my wind out!
You'll "hocuss" my liquor will you ?
O-o-oh!!! he ain't a Peep-Show man, he's the devil!!
Well! anyhow! I've given them the "rheumatics" for the next fortnight! the
sneaking scoundrels! But all this is werry mysterious! Who is it wants to get Jack Trudget
out o' the way ? Mary Langton but Margaret
M-a-y-l-a-n-d.
little beauty with the
band-box and my old captain's daughter are one and the same hidentical person ! the
lass I saved from drowning this werry day month! conglomeration! no wonder I felt a sort o' drawing
towards her the werry moment I first clapped eyes on her! she was the unknown port I was steering my course to—the distant
land I've been so long a travellin' to diskiver, and here, can't ha' knowed what was in it.
Ah! the morning breaks! the darkness is clearing away, and the bright daylight is a
streaming down to guide Jack Trudget on his way—I ain't had much of a night's rest, but this
here diskivery is more invigorating than a fortnight's conseketive snooze!
The poor lady is asleep; her illness, though not dangerous, is a tedious and lingering one.
Mr. Sands seems to take but little interest in his wife's distressing condition. He rarely
visits her, and contents himself with coldly asking after the state of her health. Strange
conduct this from a gentleman who, in all other respects, seems so benevolent and so good!
His poor wife tells me she is happier, since her husband engaged me as her companion.
Then you have heard nothing fresh from Devonshire ?
Nothing decisive, my respected client, nothing decisive; but, depend upon it, it's all right. My confidential clerk is on the coast superintending the affair.
Your confidential clerk,—who the devil's he ?
An invaluable fellow. He has secured competent assistance of the "rough and
ready" kind, and depend upon it, they are on the peep-show man's track by this
time.
Hush!
What a cautious card it is ' But I say, my respected client, between you and me, where
is this girl—this lawful heiress, you know ?
Safe, Mr. Crowsfoot, safe! Where neither Peep-Show man, nor any one else
is ever likely to look for her !
Then why so anxious to get the fellow out of the way—eh, Mr. Sands?
Because, like an idiot, I have placed within his grasp the very clue he has so vainly sought for !
You have !
Yes ! in size, shape, and substance it exactly resembled my own. I had placed the one in
the inside, the other in the outside coat-pocket, wrong pocket, and actually gave him the very book that had just been found on
the girl!
Containing, I suppose, some rather awkward particulars ?
Awkward!
Devilish provoking, certainly! You must be more careful about your pockets, my respected
client. Take care of your pockets! ha! ha! ha!
I say, no unnecessary violence, I trust.
You mean nothing at all likely to get you into trouble,
But this agent, this clerk of yours, can you depend upon him ?
Depend on him ! Why I saved him from the treadmill only last year, and could have
him transported to-morrow if I liked—if that isn't a voucher for his respectability
I don't know what is ! It's strange he doesn't write, but I suppose be's got into some wild
part of the country where postage-stamps have never been heard of.
Hush! Confound you,
To defraud your unfortunate niece of her lawful inheritance! Why, you're quite the wicked uncle in the story books!
Pooh! nonsense! I'm not even supposed to be conscious of the girl's existence It was by the
merest chance I became aware of it,—besides, what would
Why, it's a positive service you are doing her! she ought to stand something !
Yes, the arcadian innocence of her disposition shall continue unsophisticated! I'll look
her out a stout, wooden-headed farmer for a husband, all grins and good nature, and
stow her away in a snug corner of the country, beyond the reach of any stray
information that might otherwise reach her!
I thought I was sharp enough, but, hang me, if you don't beat me hollow. Ah, I've
a great respect for you, Mr. Sands—you are such a thorough-going humbug!
What!
I say, have you established any more "benevolent societies" lately ? any more "coal and counterpane clubs," eh ?
Of course I have! What should I do without my reputation for philanthropy ? But, I say,
you'll stay to dinner, of course. I have a large party of friends coming —one of my
speculation dinners—meanwhile we will take a stroll in the garden,
Ah, where no one can hear us except the fishes, cautious card it is, to be sure!
Come, I've much to tell you and to talk over.
Ah. Mr. Sands, you're a wicked sinner, but I'll stick to you faithfully as
As long as I pay you well, I know you will. Come along !
You'll tip up handsome, you know.
Of course I will,
Stop a bit, I've dropped my handkerchief!
Confound you, come along!!
'Tis about the hour she usually walks alone in the garden ! I have watched daily from the
opposite shore—I will await her here. Ah, would that I had never seen this girl !
All is now ready ! This has been an unusually fatiguing day ! I have been occupied the
whole morning in superintending the preparations for the grand dinner party which Mr. Sands
is giving to-day, to a numerous circle of friends,
This time you escape me not
Ah!
Hush ! resistance is vain !
Help ! Alas, the servants are too far off to hear me. Help !
Peace I say—you are mine at last
Help!
I heer'd a cry of "help. "
This fellow again!
Yes, the "seedy wagabond" again,
Accursed miscreant! a ducking in yon river shall teach you how to interfere !
All right, we'll try a cold bath together !
Curses!
A-a-ah !
That's the great advantage of a slip-knot, miss! Being
But he will be drowned!
Don't be frightened, miss ! he's destined for a more elewated termination,
you been, miss ?
To your timely and providential arrival I am again indebted for my preservation. Oh ! how
can I sufficiently thank you ?
Don't talk about debts o' gratitude, miss, it's a mercy as how I got here in time—I've had
a narrow escape on it, miss—I've been as nearly "hocused" as here and there one.
Hocussed!
Yes, miss—two scoundrely smugglers has been a dogging my steps.
I have so often thought of you—so often wondered whether we should ever meet again !
Oh lor ! she's been a thinkin' o' me.
I have recovered from my dream, and have learnt to feel nought but contempt for the recollection of a villain, who could so cruelly deceive me!
Hear ! hear! what's the use o' caring for carpenters, or anybody else, as ain't worthy on
you.
Have you then, Mr. Trudget, ever suffered from an attachment of the kind ?
Have I?
I could hardly fancy that any girl could turn a deaf ear to the appeal of one so good, so
kind-hearted as yourself,
Another of them looks! cork-screwers, it goes clean through me, like a flash o' lightning through a
powder magazine!
I am sure he would, I could
intercede for you with anyone——
You, miss?
Yes, 'tis mine—I have not seen it since the day when—when
When—
They are—I hastily wrote them a few moments before —
Before, before —
Margaret Wayland!
To think I should hear it from her own lips!
He was captain of a merchant vessel —I was too young to remember him, but my thoughts of him have ever been associated with this little gold medallion.
The gold medallion! the old captain's gift!
During my poor mother's lifetime she has often told me that my father placed it round my
neck when an infant, the very night he left us—never to return !
There ain't much doubt about the lawfulness o' her claim to the property.
Twenty thousand pounds!!
Yes, miss—a—a—I've been looking for you this many a day
Looking for me !
Yes, miss ! Why, it was all along o' you, miss, that I took to the peep-show business.
eye on him for
me!
You say that it was on my account that you—
Yes, miss! I swore to the old captain, your father, that I would find his child for him, and that there little gold medallion, as your dear father his self told me on, is the last link as was wanting in the chain o' evidence—Jack Trudget's woyage o' diskivery is over! his poor old captain's child is found!
This intelligence is really so sudden, so unexpected ! I, a poor milliner's apprentice, heiress to a fortune ?
Yes, miss, but
He ! Mr. Sands, my father's brother !
Yes, miss,
And with him that odious lawyer.
Lawyer!
True-hearted fellow! I could almost think, but no, it's impossible
She guv' me another of them cork screwers—oh, if it wasn't for the sacred dooty.
Here, we are screened from observation, we can now speak without
restraint—
What a cautious card it is—I wonder you don't transact all your business in the middle of Salisbury Plain!
You see, this is the abstract of my brother's will—it seems he actually appointed this peep-show man his executor.
So he did!
The New York people have been sending all over the world in search of him, but can't find him anywhere.
Not likely to get hold of his present address, at any rate,
Ah ! I hope all's going well yonder ; two ruffians were hardly
enough—
What's he say ?
My respected client, I tell you it's all right—I feel assured that according to the programme set forth in my agent's last letter, your friend the peep-show man is, at this very moment, kicking about in the hold of the "Jumping Jenny."
Devil, take him ! let's hope so, at any rate!
Is these my ears as I'm a-hearin' with ?
Here is the abstract of the will forwarded from New York. In the absence of the executor
Clear, straightforward, lucid, satisfactory !
The date of the will is precise in the extreme—at six o'clock of this present day the two years will expire—
Then, in exactly an hour, my respected client will be legally entitled to this
very snug property——
An hour! it's lucky I caught the "early Parly."
Ha! ha! I suppose there isn't much chance of the little niece—the lawful heiress, putting in her claim in the brief interval—eh ?
Well, not much certainly—ah! I've taken my measures with consummate skill!
Have you! is a clearing up shower
Anyhow ! it was as well we got the Peep-show Man out of the way; as it grew near the appointed time, he might have redoubled his efforts, and with that pocket-book actually in his possession—
I shall never forgive myself that infernal mistake!
Ah, you did put your foot in it that time!
I say, only fancy the Peep-show Man's surprise when after having his rum and water "hocussed" by the "rough and readies" he wakes up and finds himself in the hold of the "Jumping Jenny"—ha ! ha! ha!
All among the fresh herrings ha! ha!
Vastly facetious, ha ! ha! ha!
Devilish funny, ha ! ha ! ha !
Devilish funny, certainly!
You'll come down handsome my respected client—the rum and water was my idea, you know!
Don't be alarmed! I'll come down! Stay, I'll just put away this little document
S'pose the exekitor takes care on it!
He here! the Peep-show Man!! a—a—
Ah, to be sure—a wision! s'pose we calls it a nightmare !
The Peep-show Man, here!
A—a—what business have you here?
Ths business that every honest man has to expose
This language to me ?
Yes, to you ! fresh herrings till the robbery was over, did you? but you've been too clever
for yourself! If it hadn't ha' been for they two cut throat customers as you sent arter
me, I should never ha' knowed nothink about the matter! It was they as put me up to
look into this 'ere little pocket-book!
Curses and confusion!
I—I—I—I think—I think—I—I'd better be o—o—o—off!
Stop a minute, my joker ! sneakin', prettyfogging, kidnapping, scoundrelly rascal
as this!
Oh ! he's loosening my false teeth !
The guests must be beginning to arrive for dinner——
You thought you'd lay me in limbo while
Murder!!!
Why, Master Goodwin Sands, you're about as "shifty." a customer, as your name sake off Margate!
Confusion! the guests are ooming this way ! Hush ! for pity sake! !
What have I heard ?
My dear Mr. Sands, what is all this terrific noise about ?
Ruined! ruined!
I was only just a discussin' a legal point with this here distinguished pettifogger,
In mercy—peace !
Remember—he is your old captain's brother!
That's saved him, miss!
We do! we do !
Then now I'm going to tell you a hinstanse of it, as 'l1 make your hair curl with downright astonishment and admiration!
Oh, my! let's hear it—let's hear it!
You see, ladies and gen'lmen, the lawful proppyrietor to a large fortune was missing—in the
absence of number one, this ere magnanimous gen'lman
O-o-oh! O-o-oh! what a worthy man! what an excellent man!
And who should the rightful owner be, but the young person I have now the honor to
interdoose to your notice—
Dear me! Oh my ! Strange ! How very singular !
The devil take him!
He is the devil—I know he's the devil!
I say, Sands, you never told us this young lady was your niece.
Oh ! a-a-didn't I? you see, the pressure of affairs—the hurry of business——
Halloa !
Oh, Mr. Jack, I am so glad! all yours —you more than deserve it.
Lor, miss, it ain't the property as I cares about, proprietress I should ha' liked.
Eh ! knew it!
Holloa ! shiver my timbers, I've been and gone and said it!
You didn't mean it ?
No! I didn't mean that nayther—because—a—a—for the matter o' that—I did
mean it! You see, miss,
Then let me say it for you. now, by your untiring energy and zeal, you have secured to me the
fortune my poor father left me. John Trudget—will you take me for your wife ?
My wife ! !! my wife! Oh, lor, this is too
much !
Never mind the "hinstitooshun"
Oh, ain't she a hangel! Hooray! And all owing to this 'ere pocket-book, said it would help me in my search, and, by jingo, it did
help me in my search !
A—a—ah!
0—o—oh!!! What the devil did you do that for ?
I'll have this 'ere little book framed and glazed and hung over the chimney-piece in our
werry best sitting room!