Mrs. Bartlett—[With hysterical anger.] Then I’ll tell him myself—of the murders you did, and—
Bartlett—[Grimly.] And I’ll say ’twas done in fair fight to keep them from stealin’ the gold! I’ll tell him your’s is a woman’s notion, and he’ll believe me, not you. He’s his father’s son, and he’s set to go. Ye know it, Sarah. [She falls back in the chair hopelessly staring at him with horrified eyes. He turns away and adds after a pause.] So ye’ll christen the Sarah Allen in the mornin’ afore she sails, won’t ye, Sarah?
Mrs. Bartlett—[In a terrified tone.] Yes—if it’s needful to save Nat—and God’ll forgive me when He sees my reason. But you—Oh, Isaiah! [She shudders and then breaks down, sobbing.]
Bartlett—[After a pause, turns to her humbly as if asking her forgiveness.] Ye mustn’t think hard o’ me that I want your name. It’s because it’s a good woman’s name, and I know it’ll bring luck to our vige. I’d find it hard to sail without it—the way things be.
Mrs. Bartlett—[Getting to her feet—in a state of feverish fear of him.] I’m goin’ to home.
Bartlett—[Going to her.] I’ll help ye to the top o’ the hill, Sarah.
Mrs. Bartlett—[Shrinking from him in terror.] No. Don’t you touch me! Don’t you touch me! [She hobbles quickly out of the door in the rear, looking back frightenedly over her shoulder to see if he is following as
[The Curtain Falls]