Hannah. I know it, I know it. He’s saved us, he’s saved us! O, where is he? Where is my boy?
Enter Will, C.
Will. Here, mother, here’s your own boy again.
Hannah. (Screams.) O, Will! Will! I knew you’d come! I knew you’d come! (Runs into his arms.)
John. Will, welcome home! (Takes his hand.) Everything is forgotten and forgiven. I’m proud to welcome my son home again.
Will. Home, father, spite of the craft of that man whom I once called friend. It is ours still.—Mary, sister!
Mary. Dear, dear Will, a thousand times welcome! (Clasps his hand.)
Will. Ah, sister, I have missed you all. Thank Heaven, I am once more able to meet you without a blush of shame.
Ned. Here’s your old chum, Will; can you spare a hand for him?
Will. (Giving both hands to Ned. Mary leads her mother to lounge.) Ah, Ned, you have much to forgive. That cruel blow with the little brown jug!