Our American Cousin, Tom Taylor [best color ereader .TXT] 📗

the Trenchard’s on this side of the water. Yes we’ve got the start of the heap. Mary Tell me, Mr. Trenchard, did he never receive any letters from his daughter? Asa Trenchard Oh yes, lots of them, but the old cuss never read them, though. He chucked them in the fire as soon as he made out who they come from. Mary Aside. My poor mother. Asa Trenchard You see, as nigh as we could reckon it up, she had gone and got married again his will, and that made him mad, and well, he was a queer kind of a rusty fusty old coon, and it appeared that he got older, and rustier, and fustier and coonier every fall, you see it always took him in the fall, it was too much for him. He got took down with the ague, he was so bad the doctors gave him up, and mother she went for a minister, and while she was gone the old man called me in his room, “come in, Asa Trenchard, boy,” says he, and his voice rang loud and clear as a bell, “come in,” says he. Well I comed in; “sit down,” says he; well I sot down. You see I was always a favorite with the old man. “Asa Trenchard, my boy,” says he, takin’ a great piece of paper, “when I die, this sheet of paper makes you heir to all my property in England.” Well, you can calculate I pricked up my ears about that time, bime-by the minister came, and I left the room, and I do believe he had a three day’s fight with the devil, for that old man’s soul, but he got the upper hand of satan at last, and when the minister had gone the old man called me into his room again. The old Squire was sitting up in his bed, his face as pale as the sheet that covered him, his silken hair flowing in silvery locks from under his red cap, and the tears rolling from his large blue eyes down his furrowed cheek, like two mill streams. Will you excuse my lighting a cigar? For the story is a long, awful moving, and I don’t think I could get on without a smoke. Strikes match. “Wal,” says he to me, and his voice was not as loud as it was afore⁠—it was like the whisper of the wind in a pine forest, low and awful. “Asa Trenchard, boy,” said he, “I feel that I’ve sinned in hardening my heart against my own flesh and blood, but I will not wrong the last that is left of them; give me the light,” says he. Wal I gave him the candle that stood by his bedside, and he took the sheet of paper I was telling you of, just as I might take this. Takes will from pocket. And he twisted it up as I might this, Lights will and he lights it just this way, and he watched it burn slowly and slowly away. Then, says he, “Asa Trenchard, boy that act disinherits you, but it leaves all my property to one who has a better right to it. My own daughter’s darling child, Mary Meredith,” and then he smiled, sank back upon his pillow, drew a long sigh as if he felt relieved, and that was the last of poor old Mark Trenchard. Mary Poor Grandfather. Buries her face and sobs. Asa Trenchard After business. Wal, I guess I’d better leave her alone. Sees half-burned will. There lies four hundred thousand dollars, if there’s a cent. Asa Trenchard, boy, you’re a hoss. Starts off, R. 1 C. Mary To me, all to me. Oh Mr. Trenchard, how we have all wronged poor grandfather. What, gone? He felt after such tidings, he felt I should be left alone⁠—who would suspect there was such delicacy under that rough husk, but I can hardly believe the startling news⁠—his heiress⁠—I, the penniless orphan of an hour ago, no longer penniless, but, alas, an orphan still, Enter Florence Trenchard with none to share my wealth, none to love me. Florence Trenchard Throwing arms around Mary’s neck. What treason is this, Mary, no one to love you, eh, what’s the matter? You’ve been weeping, and I met that American Savage coming from here; he has not been rude to you? Mary On no, he’s the gentlest of human beings, but he has just told me news that has moved me strangely. Florence Trenchard What is it, love? Mary That all grandfather’s property is mine, mine, Florence, do you understand? Florence Trenchard What! he has popped, has he? I thought he would. Mary Who do you mean? Florence Trenchard Who? Asa Trenchard, to be sure. Mary Asa Trenchard, why, what put that in your head? Florence Trenchard Why how can Mark Trenchard’s property be yours, unless you marry the legatee. Mary The legatee? Who? Florence Trenchard Why, you know Mark Trenchard left everything to Asa Trenchard. Mary No, no, you have been misinformed. Florence Trenchard Nonsence, he showed it to me, not an hour ago on a half sheet of rough paper just like this. Sees will. Like this. Picks it up. Why this is part of it, I believe. Mary That’s the paper he lighted his cigar with. Florence Trenchard Then he lighted his cigar with 80,000 pounds. Here is old Mark Trenchard’s signature. Mary Yes, I recognize the hand. Florence Trenchard And here are the words “Asa Trenchard, in consideration of sole heir”⁠—etc.⁠—etc.⁠—etc. Mary Oh Florence, what does this mean? Florence Trenchard It means that he is a true hero, and he loves you, you little rogue. Embraces her. Mary Generous man. Hides face in Florence Trenchard’s bosom. Florence Trenchard Oh, won’t I convict him, now. I’ll find him at once. Runs off, R. 3 E., Mary after her calling Florence!!! Florence!!! as scene closes. Scene 2

Chamber as before.

Enter Mrs. Mountchessington, and Augusta, L. 1 E. Mrs. Mountchessington Yes, my child, while Mr. De Boots and Mr. Trenchard are both here, you must