_Ger._ Father! father!--Oh, William! I was dreaming, and took you for my father! I _must_ die, William--somehow. There must be some way out of this! The doors can't _all_ be locked.

_Col. G._ There's generally a chance to be had, sir. There's always a right and a wrong fighting it out somewhere. There's Garibaldi in the field again! Die by the hand of an enemy--if you _will_ die, sir.

_Ger._ (_smiling_) That I couldn't, William: the man that killed me would be my best friend.--Yes--Garibaldi!--I don't deserve it, though: he fights for his country; I should fight but for death. Only a man doesn't stop when he dies--does he, William?

_Col. G._ I trust not, sir. But he may hope to be quieter--that is, if he dies honestly. It's grand for a soldier! He sweeps on the roaring billows of war into a soundless haven! Think of that, sir!

_Ger._ Why, William! how you talk!--Yes! it would be grand! On the crest of the war-cataract--heading a cavalry charge!--Tomorrow, William. I shall be getting stronger all the way. We'll start to-morrow.

_Col. G._ Where for, sir?

_Ger._ For Italy--for Garibaldi. You'll go with me?

_Col. G._ To the death, sir.

_Ger._ Yes; that's it--that's where I'm going. But not to-day. Look at my arm: it wouldn't kill a rat!--You saved my life, but I'm not grateful. If I was dead, I might be watching her--out of the lovely silence!--My poor Psyche!

_Col. G._ She's none the worse, sir. The pistol didn't go off.

_Ger._ Ah!--She ought to have fallen to pieces--long ago! You've been seeking to keep her shroud wet. But it's no matter. Let her go. Earth to earth, and dust to dust!--the law of Nature--and Art too.

_Exit into the house_.

_Col. G._ (_following him_) I mustn't lose sight of him.--Here he comes again, thank G.o.d!

_Catches up a coat, and begins brushing it_.

_Re-enter_ GER.

_Ger._ I don't like to see you doing that.

_Col. G._ Why shouldn't I serve my own--superior, sir? Anything's better than serving yourself. And that's what every one does who won't serve other people.

_Ger._ You are right. And it's so cheap.

_Col. G._ And so nasty!

_Ger._ Right again, William!--Right indeed!--You're a gentleman! If there's anything I could help you in--anything gone wrong,--any friends offended--I'm not altogether without influence.

_Col. G._ (_aside_) He will vanquish me with my own weapons!

_Ger._ But you _will_ go to Garibaldi with me?

_Col. G._ I will, sir.

_Ger._ And ride by my side?

_Col. G._ Of course.

_Ger._ If you ride by me, you will have to ride far.

_Col. G._ I know, sir. But if you would be fit for fighting, you must come and have something to eat and drink.

_Ger._ All right. A soldier must obey: I shall begin by obeying you.

Only mind you keep up with me. _Exit, leaning on_ COL. G.

_Enter_ THOMAS.

_Tho._ Th' dule a mon be yere! Aw're main troubled to get shut ov they reyvers! Aw'm olez i' trouble! Mine's a gradely yed! it be!--Hoy!--n.o.bory yere! 'T seems to me, honest men be scarce i'

Lonnon. Aw'm beawn to believe n.o.bory but mo own heighes, and mo own oud la.s.s. _Exit_.

_Re-enter_ GERVAISE, _followed by_ COL. G.

_Ger._ No, William; I won't lie down. I feel much better. Let's have a bout with the foils.

_Col. G._ Very well, sir. (_Aside_.) A little of that will go far, I know. (_Gets down the foils_.)

_Ger._ And, William, you must set a block up here. I shall have a cut or two at it to-morrow. There's a good cavalry weapon up there--next that cast of Davis's arm.

_Col. G._ Suppose your father were to arrive just after you had started!

_Ger._ I shouldn't mind. I don't want to see him yet. I'm such a poor creature! The heart seems to have gone out of me. You see, William--

_Enter_ MRS. CLIFFORD.

_Ger._ Ah! How do you do, aunt?

_Mrs. C._ What's this nonsense about Garibaldi, Arthur?

_Ger._ Who told you?

_Mrs. C._ You don't mean it's true?

_Ger._ Quite true, aunt.

_Mrs. C._ Really, Arthur, you are more of a scatterbrain than I took you for!

_Ger._ Don't say that, aunt. I only take after my father.

_Mrs. C._ Don't talk to me of your father! I have no patience with him. A careless hard-hearted fellow--not worthy the name of a father!

(_She glares at_ SIR WALTER.)

_Ger._ You may go, William. (COL. G. _retires slowly_.)

_Ger._ Aunt, you have been a mother to me; but were you really my mother, I must not listen to such words of my father. He has good reasons for what he does, though I admit there is something in it we don't understand. (_Aside_.) If I could but understand how Constance--

_Mrs. C._ What do you say? What was that about Constance?