CHARACTERS.

Mr. Campbell,		A Returned Traveller.
Mr. Lewis,		The Head of the Family.
Mrs. Lewis,		His Wife.
Agnes,	⎫	Their Children.
Philip,	⎭	Their Children.
Miss Rachel,		A Spinster Sister of Mr. L.
Servant.

Scene I.—Parlor at Mr. Lewis’. Mr. C. enters, L.

Mr. Campbell. Well, I must say it seems pleasant to be home again, once more. After travelling two years through foreign countries, it is really refreshing to reach one’s native land. (Throws himself into an easy-chair, C.) But I wonder where Maria and her husband are? They will be somewhat surprised to see me here a month earlier than they expected. Fortunately, through all my travels I have kept my latch-key, and was able to gain an entrance without the aid of a servant. However, now that I am here, I feel impatient to see Maria and Arthur. I think I will ring. (Rings; servant enters, R.)

Mr. C. Are Mr. and Mrs. Lewis at home?

Servant. No, sir, the family are all away at a party. You are Mrs. Lewis’s brother, I suppose?

Mr. C. Yes. (Surprised.) Did she expect me to-night?

S. Yes, and she bade me say they were sorry to be obliged to be away. But they wished you to make yourself comfortable. Here is the evening paper, sir. (Hands it to him.) As they will not be home till late, I will conduct you to your room when you wish to retire.

Mr. C. There’s no occasion for that. I remember my old room very well. I will read a while before I go to bed. I may possibly sit up till they come home. At all events, I shall not need any further service from you.

(Exit Servant, L.)

Well, I must say I’m mystified. In the first place, I don’t see how Maria heard I should arrive to-day. In the second place, when I asked if Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were at home, the servant said all the family were away. Now people don’t use such an expression as that when the family consists of only two members. I wonder whether they have company? I wish I might meet my sister Eliza here. But I won’t trouble myself with needless conjectures. I shall learn all about the matter in the morning. (A pause.) I believe I’ll put on my slippers. (Opens bag, from which he takes slippers. He takes off boots, puts on slippers, then takes up evening paper.) I wonder what the news is. In fact, it will be all news to me. Ah! here’s the announcement of the arrival of the Rosamond. But if Maria had seen it she wouldn’t have supposed that I was a passenger. How could she have heard of my arrival? That is a mystery to me. (He commences reading, but in one or two minutes his eyes close, and he begins to nod. Suddenly his head falls back, and the paper drops from his grasp. He wakens with a start.) Why, bless me, I nearly lost myself! I feel very sleepy. (Looks at his watch.) No wonder—it is nearly half-past eleven o’clock. I think I will go to bed. (Picks up paper, and puts it on the table, then takes his bag—a small one—and a light, and leaves the room, R.)

(Curtain falls.)

Scene II.—A chamber. There must be a bed in the room, C. This may be a lounge, but it must have curtains around it. These are necessary, and can be arranged on a light, portable frame. Mr. C. enters the room, sets down the lamp on table, R., and looks around, in astonishment.

Mr. C. It seems Maria has entirely refurnished this chamber. I can hardly recognize the room I have occupied so many times. But I am too sleepy to take much account of surroundings. If the bed is only comfortable, I shall not take much notice of anything else. (Takes off coat, vest, and slippers, which he puts near head of bed, and extinguishes the light. He then parts the curtains and throws himself upon the bed, drawing the curtains to after him.)

(A pause. Then the door opens, L., and an ancient maiden, in party attire, enters. She sets lamp down on the table. Sits down, herself, and proceeds to divest her head of its adornings. She takes off two sets of curls, two or three braids, and numberless hairpins. Also takes from her mouth a set of false teeth. While these preparations are going on, she soliloquizes:)

Aunt Rachel. What senseless people one meets at a party, to be sure!

Mr. C. (peeping from between curtains, aside). Who the deuce is this?

A. R. (continuing). There was that Fitznoodle, the puppy, trying to make himself agreeable to our little Agnes. To be sure, she’s old enough to have a beau, but I hope to goodness she won’t marry him. I wouldn’t if he was worth his weight in gold.

Mr. C. (again peeping out,—in a low tone). What a fate it would be for a man to marry such a woman as that! Though, for that matter, there won’t be much left of her, if she keeps on. She’s got her head most taken to pieces, already.

(Aunt R. puts on a very large night-cap, so that only a small portion of her face is visible. She suddenly discovers the other lamp. Mr. C. frequently peeps out.)

A. R. (in dismay). Where did that other lamp come from? I know it wasn’t here when I dressed for the party. (Looks around. Mr. C.’s head disappears, and the curtains are closed. She discovers a coat and vest on the chair near head of bed. Her eyes are fixed on them in horror. She wrings her hands.) Oh, there’s a man in the room, I know there is! I shall faint. (She suddenly considers that, under the circumstances, this would be improper.) If I only dared to go and look! (Stands a moment, with hands tightly clasped together, grows courageous, and slowly walks toward the bed, peeps through the curtain, and, darting back, screams.) Oh! oh! oh!

Mr. C. (parting the curtains a little). Don’t be so foolish, madam. I assure you it is all a mistake.

A. R. That’s what they always say. (Runs to door, L., looking back now and then, to see if she is pursued; screams:) Emmeline! James! Help! Murder! Thieves!

(Exit Aunt Rachel.)

(Mr. C. parts the curtain, and looks forth.)

Mr. C. Well, I must say, that’s rather curious. The mystery thickens. Pray who could that female be? I’m sure it’s no one that I ever saw before. Perhaps she’s left a handkerchief with her name written on it. I guess I’ll reconnoitre a little, as she has left me a light. (Goes to table, lifts, successively, the braids and masses of curls.) Here is part of her make-up. But there’s no name on it. In fact, there is nothing to give any clue to the mystery. But there’s one thing I can do. I’ll fasten the door so that I shall not be interrupted again. (Goes to door and locks it.) Now I believe I will retire once more, and see if I cannot get a little rest. And for fear I may be routed again, I will leave the light burning. (He goes to bed.)

(Curtain falls.)

Scene III.—Parlor at Mr. Lewis’. Mrs. L., R., Agnes, C., and Philip, L., present. They are engaged in taking off their outer garments.

Mrs. Lewis. How glad I am to get home again! I feel very tired.

Philip. I don’t feel tired a bit. I wanted to stop longer. Didn’t you, Agnes?

Agnes. I had a nice time, and enjoyed myself very much. (Smiling.) I don’t suppose I should seriously have objected to stopping longer. Do you know, Phil, I made a good many new acquaintances this evening?

Phil. Yes, you seemed to be having a splendid time, talking with Fitznoodle. I can’t say I admire your taste.

A. Oh, as for that, I don’t fancy him much, myself, but you know one must be civil, even if they don’t like those they are talking with.

(Enter Aunt Rachel, R., with night-cap on, in a state of great excitement.)

A. R. Oh, murder! Help! Thieves!

Mrs. L. What is it, Rachel?

A. R. (gasping). Oh, dear! Oh, dear!

Mrs. L. Why, Rachel, what is the matter?

A. Do tell us, Aunt Rachel.

Phil. (sturdily). I’ll protect you, Aunt Rachel. Where’s the robber?

A. R. Oh, there’s a man in my room—and he spoke to me. (Clasping her hands.) What shall I do? Oh! oh!

Mrs. L. A man in your room! It can’t be. How could he get in with the doors all locked?

A. R. (tartly). I tell you there is a man there. Don’t you believe me? He spoke to me too.

Phil. What did he say, Aunt Rachel?

A. R. I’m sure I don’t know. I didn’t wait to hear.

Mr. L. (entering, L.). Pray what is the matter? You all look frightened.

Mrs. L. And well we may. There’s a man in Rachel’s room.

Mr. L. That’s all imagination. It is simply impossible that any one could get in, under the circumstances.

A. R. (in a high tone). What! Do you mean to insinuate that I don’t know what I’m talking about? I guess I haven’t lost the use of any of my faculties yet. And I saw him with my own eyes.

Mr. L. Don’t get disturbed, Rachel. We can easily learn whether there is any one there or not. I will go myself and see.

Mrs. L. Don’t go, Alfred. If there is a man there, of course he is armed. What could you do to protect yourself against the assault of a desperate man, and one well armed too? Take my advice and call a policeman.

Mr. L. Well, perhaps that would be a better way. (Starts to go out, L.)

Mrs. L. But what shall we do? We can’t be left alone. He might murder us all and escape before you got back.

Mr. L. That is true.

Mrs. L. Why can’t we arm ourselves, and all go, in a body? There wouldn’t be much chance for him to escape, and we could, all together, overpower him.

Mr. L. Very well. I’ll take the carving-knife. (Takes it from, table.)

Mrs. L. I’ll take the poker. (Takes it.)

Phil. I’ll take the tongs. (Takes them, and stepping up behind Aunt Rachel, pretends to take off her night-cap with them.)

A. R. I’ll take the broom, and use it well, too. (Takes it from behind the door.)

A. I’ll get the clothes-line to tie him with. (Exit Agnes, R. The rest go out, R., in the following order—Mr. and Mrs. L., Aunt R., and Philip.)

(Curtain falls.)

Scene IV.—Same as Scene II. Bed with curtains drawn. Some one tries the door, L. Mr. C. parts the curtains, and looks out.

Mr. C. What’s to pay now, I wonder? I believe I shall have more adventures in this one night than I met with all the time I was abroad. (Great pounding at the door.) Halloo there! Don’t break the door down. What’s wanted?

Mr. L. (outside). Open this door at once, in the name of the law.

Mr. C. Well, well, wait a minute. (He steps out of bed, thrusts his feet in slippers, then goes and opens the door. Seems astonished at seeing so many strange faces. They enter,—Mr. L. and Philip pass to R.; the rest remain at L.,—eying him cautiously, but concealing their weapons behind them.)

Mr. L. Well, sir, what do you mean by entering my house at night, and frightening this lady (turning to Aunt R.) in such a manner?

Mr. C. I think I can explain it satisfactorily, sir; but I must first ask a few questions. Is your name Lewis?

Mr. L. It is.

Mr. C. How long have you occupied this house?

Mr. L. (puzzled). About a month.

Mr. C. What was the name of the former occupant?

Mr. L. His name was Lewis, also. I bought the house of him.

Mr. C. My name is Campbell. I am a brother of the other Mrs. Lewis. I have been travelling abroad for the last two years, and arrived here late last evening. Having a latch-key, and being ignorant of the change of owners, I entered, but was disappointed at not finding any one at home. The servant said the family were away at a party, and offered to conduct me to my room when I was ready to retire. She said Mrs. Lewis was expecting her brother.

Mrs. L. I was expecting him, but he didn’t come.

Mr. C. Under these circumstances, and misled by the name, I had no suspicion that I was trespassing. I therefore told the servant I could easily find the way to my room, as I had slept there many times before. I must apologize to this lady (turning to Aunt R.) for giving her such a fright, which I assure her was entirely unintentional on my part.

Mr. L. (laughing). Your explanation is perfectly satisfactory, sir. Mr. Arthur Lewis lives three blocks farther down-town. But it is late, and you must be our guest for the remainder of the night. We will furnish you with another bed, and——

A. R. (interrupting him indignantly). Do you suppose I would sleep in that bed after a man had slept there? Never! Let him stay here the rest of the night, if he wants to. I shall sleep in the other chamber myself.

Phil. That’s it, Aunt Rachel. Stand up for your rights.

Mrs. L. Very well, let it be arranged so. And we’d better all retire, for it is already an hour past midnight.

Mr. C. I thank you all for your hospitality, and hope in the morning to be able to vindicate my character more fully.

Mr. L. That is quite unnecessary. Your statement is entirely satisfactory. (Turns to go out, L.)

Phil. (to A. R.) Hadn’t you better take your braids and curls and things, Aunt Rachel? Mr. Campbell won’t have any use for them, and you look better with them on than you do without.

A. R. (hastily putting her hand to head—mortified). I didn’t expect, when I put this cap on, to receive callers. (Goes and gets things from table.)

Mr. C. You are very excusable, under the circumstances.

A. R. (bowing). Then I will bid you good-night.

Mr. L.	⎫	(bowing). Good-night.
Mrs. L.	⎬
Agnes	⎪
Mr. C.	⎭

Philip (bowing). Good morning.

(Exeunt, L., Mr. L., Mrs. L., Agnes, Aunt R. and Philip. Mr. C. remains.)

(Curtain falls.)