The Southern Cross Part 20

Gordon. I have thought, sir.

Winth. (speaking low and very intently). Tell the news that Carter carried; tell me the way that he has gone, and why; tell me things he has found out--and, man, your part shall go unheeded and he released, if captured before he gives that news: tell me. Ah, G.o.d! man, tell me, and tomorrow, instead of giving up your life, you shall go free. You understand? You shall go free.

[For just a second Gordon hesitates. Winthrop starts forward with a glad cry of "Yes." Then Gordon looks away off towards the moon-lit window; his face is strangely bright; he is almost smiling; he turns to Winthrop.

Gordon. If I had a thousand lives, I'd give each one of them in turn for the Confederacy!

[As Gordon finishes speaking, the clock outside strikes one.

Winth. (starts as the clock strikes). You hear? Five hours more: Then you must die! You hear it--you must die! No power on earth can save you but yourself. Speak--for G.o.d's sake, speak! and let me take you home to them a free man--

Gordon. And a coward?

Winth. No, not that. The chances on your side are even. You have done all you could. Think of the old days when we lived down there, and how we hunted and fished and played together. Think of the love that's there for you. Think what your death would mean to them. Ah, speak out!

Think of their grief!

Gordon. Grief does not kill. They will not die. If they were here, they'd say to me, each one of them: Be strong!

[Winthrop starts, then turns quickly away into the darkness outside the square of moonlight, covering his face with his hands. When he turns, his face is drawn and white.

Winth. (takes his hand, pressing it). I can take them no better word than this: you died as you have lived.

[He turns to the door where Hopkins has awaited him. Quickly they go out into the hall. Bill's voice is heard without.

Bill. You through for the night!

[He closes the door and locks it. At the sound of the key Gordon sinks to his knees in the square of moonlight.

Gordon. Thank G.o.d! (He remains with head bowed for a second, then looks about him). Five hours more!

[The heavy door of the prison is heard to close.

Gone! (He rises quickly to his feet). They have gone--and in the morning I have got to die! To-morrow! And on the scaffold, as a thief! To-night I have begun--to-morrow, then, sees how I end! Here, here, I must not think of that. No, no; I will not. That is not for me. Five hours more!

The time is very short. Show me, dear G.o.d, how I shall spend it well and like a man! For is not Morgan saved! Has not the news gone safely out to him! And who has done all this! Thank G.o.d! thank G.o.d! he gave that place to me! What matter if I am afraid, for now 'tis done--'tis done! I've saved the greatest man that ever lived. I've saved him--saved him!

I--yes, I! What does it matter that I want to live--I want to live!

[He sinks down upon the mattress, covering his face with his arms, as

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

ACT IV.

The banks of the Aspen River, six months later. A cold, cloud-hung afternoon in late November. At the back the river may be seen through the trees, now almost stripped of their summer foliage. On both sides of the scene are heavy forest trees, mostly pine and cedar. Across the stage there winds a narrow and very rough road. It is the scene of Winthrop's camp, six months before. On the left a large fir tree, with branches low to the ground; on the right, some scrub pine and oak.

Some traces of the camp are still to be seen; some broken boxes; the charred remains of a fire at the right, near front. The sound of the wind in the pines at rise. Enter Corporal Evans and Hopkins (Right) by the road. They have on their leggings and heavy army overcoats, with the collars up.

Evans (s.h.i.+vering). Uh! nasty weather. I have always been told about the sunny South. Good example of it, this!

Hopkins. It won't last long, I fancy. The last time I was here the fall was beautiful; never saw such splendid weather (he looks around). The old camp again. How much can happen in six months. Remember the fight here? I hate to think about it. We did well to get off with our lives.

Evans. Most of them didn't. I remember that night just like it was yesterday; 'twas the very night you got back from Columbus. The moon had just set behind them hills, and the sentry reported all quiet. I was just turning in, when down on us like a whirlwind came that rebel, Morgan. We didn't have a show; 'twas "boots and saddles" quicker than I ever saw it before.

Hop. Their victory all right; more than half our men were killed or captured, and all through the information that fellow Hillary brought through when he escaped from prison (he gazes off across the river).

I wonder what's become of them--the people over there?

Evans. Why, ain't you heard a word from them?

Hop. No, not since we were here in May. Things look right different now. Why, all along the way, as we were marching here, I couldn't help thinking how it was changed; the fences down, the fields all gone to waste, most of the houses burned, and only here and there some crazy negro cabin, looking as though it were about to tumble down.

How those poor devils live I don't quite see. Ten or twelve of them in just one little room; and then to see them run and hide when we pa.s.s by, you'd never think we came down here to free them.

Evans. How's Col. Winthrop today? He hasn't seemed the same since this here fight six months ago. He used to be the life of all the camp, and now he hardly ever speaks. Seems like he has grieved most to death.

I wonder why? Losing a few men don't often hurt a soldier so.

Hop. (again looking off across the river). Perhaps it isn't that.

Evans. I wonder why--(he stops, as the sound of voices is heard among the trees (Left). h.e.l.lo! What's that?

[Off (Left) a child is heard.

The Child. Come on, come on; it's recess!

Hop. Who is it?

Evans. Them children from the school, I guess. It's just a little way up the road, I've heard; we'd better duck!

Hop. Yes; back in the trees. No one must see us (he looks off (Left). h.e.l.lo! Who's that with them?

Evans. The school ma'm, I guess. Come.

Hop. (looking intently off). You go; I'll come in a second.

[Exit Evans.

Miss Charlotte! Have they come to this? She teaching school!

[He exits (Right) among the trees.

A Little Girl's Voice (nearer). Come on, come on; we're going to the camp.

[Enter by the road (Left) a little group of children; they are very small, between the ages of six and ten, all dressed in poor, home-made garments; some of the girls have shawls over their heads. They seem happy. Nearly all carry little parcels wrapped in paper.

A Boy. Ain't you glad it's recess, and we can eat our lunch down here?

A Girl. Corse we are. We can't stay long, though--it's so cold.