Capt. By the by, Miss Kate, I have a message from a friend in the city, Blanche Allen.
Kate. Dear Blanche! give it me quick.
Capt. I declare I’ve left it in my wacht.
Kate. Oh! do run and get it quick. Come, I’ll go with you.
Capt. Will you? that’s deused kind of you,—it is wearly.
Kate. Come, come! I’m impatient to hear from dear Blanche. (Takes Captain’s arm, and exit, C.)
Sept. She seems mightily pleased with her city friend. Well, he’s an elegant gentleman, while I’m but a rough fisherman. Can I ever hope to win her! And yet she told me, but a little while ago, she loved me. (About to exit, C.)
Ray. (R.) Sept., a word with you.
Sept. Ay, ay, sir. (Comes down, L.)
Ray. John Gale has been telling me a strange story about you. You are not his son.