Tom (agitated). Very dear to you?
Agnes (casting down her eyes). Yes.
Tom (after a struggle). His name?
Agnes. I cannot tell you that: I cannot even give you the name by which he is known.
Tom. Then, how am I to discover him?
Agnes. You have my name: go among the miners, tell them of me and my quest. He will hear of me, and, in spite of dangers that beset him, will find some way to meet me.
Tom. You set me a hard task.
Agnes. But you will make the attempt? O Mr. Carew! if you could look into that once happy home, now desolate by the absence of a son, for whom a fond mother is slowly but surely breaking her heart, a loving sister mourning, and I—I would give the world to reclaim! (Weeps.)
Tom. He shall be found. I'll seek him. Your name shall be the spell to conjure him from his hiding-place, were he in the deepest mine of Nevada.
Agnes. Oh, thanks, thanks! I knew that in you I should find a friend, a helper.