Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 18

JOEL. Hush up, Andy! The nearest men ain't two rods away. You'll wake 'em. Pitch it low.

ANDREW. Don't be alarmed. I'm coward enough.

JOEL. 'Course, though, there ain't much danger. I'm sentinel this end, and the sergeant has the tip at t'other. Besides, you may call it the reg'lar thing. There's been two thousand deserters already in this tuppenny-ha'penny war, and none on 'em the worse off. When a man don't get his pay for nine months--well, he ups and takes his vacation. Why not? When Nell joins us, we'll hike up the Niagara, cross over to Tonawanda, and take our breakfast in Buffalo. By that time the boys here will be marchin' away toward Lundy's Lane.

ANDREW. [_Walks back and forth, s.h.i.+vering._] I'm afraid.

JOEL. 'Fraid? Bos.h.!.+

ANDREW. I'm afraid to face----

JOEL. Face what? We won't get caught.

ANDREW. Your sister--my wife.

JOEL. Nell! Why, ain't she comin' here just a-purpose to get you? Ain't there reason enough, Lord knows? Ain't you made up your mind to light out home anyhow?

ANDREW. Yes. That's just what she'll never forgive me for. In her heart she'll never think of me the same. For she knows as well as I what pledge I'll be breaking--what sacred pledge.

JOEL. What you mean?

ANDREW. No matter, no matter; this is gush.

[_He returns to the fire and begins to fumble over the contents of his knapsack._ JOEL _watches him idly_.

JOEL. One of _her_ curls?

ANDREW. [_Looking at a lock of hair in the firelight._] No; the baby's, little Andy's. Some day they'll tell him how his father---- [_He winces, and puts the lock away._

JOEL. [_Going toward the embankment._] Listen!

ANDREW. [_Ties up the package, muttering._] Son of a traitor!

JOEL. [_Tiptoeing back._] It's crowed--that's her.

[_Leaping to his feet_, ANDREW _stares toward the embankment where the flag is dipped; then turns his back to it, closing his eyes and gripping his hands_.

[_After a pause, silently the figure of a young woman emerges from the dark and stands on the embankment. She is bareheaded and ill clad._

[JOEL _touches_ ANDREW, _who turns and looks toward her. Silently she steals down to him and they embrace_.

ANDREW. My Nell!

ELLEN. Nearly a year----

ANDREW. Now, at last!

ELLEN. Hold me close, Andy.

ANDREW. You're better?

ELLEN. Let's forget--just for now.

ANDREW. Is he grown much?

ELLEN. Grown? You should see him! But so ill! What could I do? You see----

ANDREW. I know, I know.

ELLEN. The money was all gone. They turned me out at the old place, and then----

ANDREW. I know, dear.

ELLEN. I got sewing, but when the smallpox----

ANDREW. I have all your letters, Nell. Come, help me to pack.

ELLEN. What! You're really decided----

JOEL. [_Approaching._] h.e.l.lo, Sis!

ELLEN. [_Absently._] Ah, Joel; that you? [_Eagerly, following_ ANDREW _to the knapsack_.] But, my dear----

ANDREW. Just these few things, and we're off.

ELLEN. [_Agitated._] Wait, wait! You don't know yet why I've come--instead of writing.

ANDREW. I can guess.

ELLEN. But you can't; that's--what's so hard! I have to tell you something, and then---- [_Slowly._] I must know from your own eyes, from yourself, that you wish to do this, Andrew; that you think it is _right_.

ANDREW. [_Gently._] I guessed that.

ELLEN. This is what I must tell you. It's not just the sickness, it's not only the baby, not the money gone--and all that; it's--it's----

ANDREW. [_Murmurs._] My G.o.d!

ELLEN. It's what all that brings--the helplessness. I've been insulted.

Andy--[_Her voice breaks._] I want a protector.

ANDREW. [_Taking her in his arms, where she sobs._] There, dear!

ELLEN. [_With a low moan._] You know.

ANDREW. I know. Come, now; we'll go.

ELLEN. [_Her face lighting up._] Oh! and you _dare_! It's _right_?