[Clapping his hand on his heart.]

You have it there, girl, there-and what's once there sticks fast-fast[Emphatically turning away.

fast.

Chris. [Sighs.] Ay!

Rons. Right! right-I'll come this way a few months hence, I-[Going to take his cap, stops short, and returns]-Only promise me, Christine, that if you can forget your cousin, you'll think of me.

Chris. Oh! with all my heart, I promise.

Rons. Good. One day you'll be Mrs. Ronslaus [Laughing and racket of many voices heard within, calling, "Waiter! landlady! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" &c.] Chris. They're calling. I must run. You're at home here. Remember, you're quite at home.

[Exit CHRISTINE into the Inn. Rons. [Looking after her.] Would to heaven I were indeed at home!

Enter CARLITZ whistling lazily over the mountain, with a bundle across his shoulder, at the end of a stick. RONSLAUS still gazing after CHRISTINE.

Carl. Beg pardon, Mr. for coming upon you so; but if you can only tell me the nearest road to the next town, you'll oblige me very much, Mr. Soldier.

Rons. [Turning.] Hallo! I know that voice! Bless my heart! 'tis poor Carlitz! Don't you remember me, lad? Don't you remember me a month ago at the farm in the forest, thirty leagues off?

[Holding out his hand to him. Carl. [Shaking hands awkwardly.] Ah! yes, yes. You belong to that regiment that drove off the enemy the day of the battle near our farm. Ay, a hot day's work. I fought, too, that day with a pitchfork; and when the general saw me, he laughed, and named me "soldier" on the field; but nothing came of the nomination; for, like many a brave fellow, I had only a smile for my service, and then was straight forgotten. [Casting down his bundle and stick by the side of the stone table.

Rons. So it seems you've left the farm?

Carl. Yes, Mr. Soldier; I am no longer a ploughjogger; I'm an officer.

Rons. An officer

Carl. Civil, Mr. Soldier-a civil officer. I've a place inder government. I got it bv patronage. "Twas

Peter Linski, town-clerk, that got me named horse-post for two leagues round our village.

Rons. Yes, one would take you for a post.

Carl. Horse, if you please-horse-post!—that is, till I lost my horse; for last night a party of the enemy's troops fell in with me, or fell out with me, should say-for, after parading me a few leagues blindfold, they set me down in the middle of the wood, gave me a cuff by the side of the head, and rode off with my horse and bags, leaving me nothing but what you see; so I've been trudging it on foot ever since, not knowing where I was, more than the child unborn.

Rons. Then you've had no breakfast?

Carl. Not a morsel. This is the first house I've come to; and one's feelings, on encountering a tavern sigu, depend very much upon the state of one's pocket, you know. I daren't go in, so I've only ventured here to ask

Rons. What, lad! hungry and tired, too! Here, [taking him to the stone table] here you shall eat, Crink, and be joyful! Don't be afraid. I pay all. Carl. What, you? No! You don't say so? pay all?

Rons. That seems to astonish you.

You

Carl. Not at all. "Twould astonish me a great deal more to pay for it myself. But I don't like you should spend your money for me, though.

rest.

Rons. Come, no flinching. I'm at home here. Hallo! waiter! But they're all busy. I'll go myself. One's always quicker served to help ones-self. Rest yourself there You need rest-I'll come back presently-rest, [Exit RONSLAUS into the house. Carl. I wasn't over and above pleased to meet this soldier; for he's a devil of a fellow-as surly as a pioneer-and he uses his sabre with as little ceremony as I use my spurs; but he's a good fellow at heart, for he stands treat, and I couldn't have kept up any longer. [Casts himself at full length on the green bank.] One finds friends where one least expects. Just as we fancy it's all over with us, something pops up unlooked for, to show that Providence never forgets us so long as we don't forget ourselves. When I'm rich, I'll make it up to this soldier-and I shall be rich-ay, ay, I shall work my way in the world, I am sure I shall. Peter Linski was in the right. It's foolish to get married; for then all great projects stop-one comes to a dead stand

and yet something makes me so uncomfortable-something weighs, weighs whenever I think of her :-nonsense! I can't help it, though. My heart's as heavy as my eyes! I should like to see her again. Ay, that I should I should-I-I[Sleeps. Enter CHRISTINE and BRANDT with plates, table, cloth, napkins, &c. &c.

Chris. Come! lay the cloth there. Brisk brisk! mind that nothing's wanting. See that all's in orderall the best.

[Laying the cloth on the front table.-Exit BRANDT. Carl. [Dreaming.] Poor dear! Poor Christine !

Chris-ris

Chris. [Starting.] Who calls? [Turns, and sees CARLITZ. Gracious Heaven! 'tis he! 'Tis Carlitz!

[Runs up to him, but checks herself, seeing RONS

LAUS enter from the Inn, with a bottle in each hand.

Rons. Victory! I've taken the wine-cellar by storm! What a glorious army, all ranged in battle order! But 'tis no trifle can make me fall back. I've made daylight shine through the ranks. There! [Sets the bottles on the table, R. CHRISTINE's eyes are riveted on CARLITZ. RONSLAUS goes to her, and takes her hand.] What's the matter, Christine? Your hand trembles.

Chris. [Her eyes on CARLITZ.] N-n-nothing; nn-nothing.

It's

Rons. Nothing? 'Tis something, I'm sure. what I was saying to you just now, isn't it, Christine? Ah! so much the better-that's a good sign-ay, ayI'm glad to see that. Come, you shall sit down there, and keep us company.

Chris. No, no, no! Oh, no! I'm wanted within. The waiter will stay with you--and I—while you're at table, I'll be in and out, to see there's nothing forgot.

[Exit CHRISTINE, still looking as she goes at CARLITZ.

Rons. As you please. [Goes and slaps CARLITZ on the shoulder.] Comrade! to your post!

Carl. [Starting up.] I've nothing more, soldiers! You've got all I had. [Rubbing his eyes.] Hey? [Looking around, recovers, and then bursts into a laugh.] Ha, ha, ha! Well, if I didn't think I was caught by the enemy again.

Rons. No, not the enemy, but the best friend in the world to a hungry traveller-a breakfast for a general. Carl. Ah! what a pity! [Sighing.

Rons. What a pity?.

Carl. Yes; just as you waked me, I was deputy postmaster of the village, and from my house window I saw myself riding in a one-horse chaise to a smoking dinner at the justice's.

a

[They sit at the table, R., RONSLAUS next the house, CARLITZ opposite.

Rons. Your dreams end in smoke, do they? I'm for the solid. Come, set to. [CARLITZ spreads the napkin on his lap, and puts the plate on it.] Now I should sooner have thought that a young looking lad like you would have dreamt of riding to see some village-beauty -some fair dulcinea. I'm sure you have some one in corner thereabouts. Fill, boy! [CARLITZ pours water into his glass, which RONSLAUS observing, fills it up with wine, then pours out his own wine, which CARLITZ is about to mix with water.] What are you at? No water'for me. [CHRISTINE returns with a bottle and plates, and sets them on the stone table, L. She remains on, her eyes riveted on CARLITZ, and from time to time recedes or advances as the conversation more or less excites her interest.] Drink my toast. Here's to the girl of my heart. [Drinks.

Carl. Here's to the girl of my heart. [Drinks.] That's all right-[Eating.] But then, you see, Mr. Soldier, in my situation one ought never to dream of marrying.

Chris. [Apart.] Indeed!

Carl. I'm not exactly my own master. True, there was somebody of our parts that I did promise to

marry.

Rons. You did promise? And why the devil didn't you keep your promise?

Carl. Oh, family reasons-[Still oating]-family

reasons.

Rons. That's another matter-that's no business of mine. Your health, Mr. Post-horse.

Carl. [Offering the water again, which the other repels.] couldn't have a nicer girl-because, though 'tis a long time since I saw her, yet she was so gentle, so pretty. I did love her so! but just as I was making up my mind, I thought how I should manage to get on

in the world. Then I thought what a fine thing it was to be a man of consequence; and these ideas, you know, drive out the others.

Rons. A promise to a woman is like a promise to a colonel, and ought to be held sacred. Though fortune disappoint or exceed our hopes, 'tis all one. Every thing else may change, but plighted vows never.Your honour once given, you have no right to flinch. Chris. [Aside.] Honest, honest heart!

·

Carl. But then, Mr. Soldier, if it should so happen hat I should not, by keeping my promise, make her happy? [CHRISTINE darts foraiard. Rons. That alters the case. Then you should tell her so at once, and not keep the poor girl in the fidgets. You should write the truth to her thus. [Takes his knife, and seems to write with the point of it on the plate, as he repeats slowly-] Miss-I take up my pen for to make it known unto you, that I don't love you any more, and so you have no need to wait any longer, and you are free to marry any body else as soon as you like. This from your loving husband that was to be, Carlitz.'-That's the way delicate and feeling people do when they've had a good education.

Carl. Very well; but then I'll never write that to her.

Rons. You won't? [Sternly.] What! you won't?

Carl. I didn't say I wouldn't write-no I will write; -but then I'll phrase in another sort of a way-I'm willing to tell her, Miss, I don't love you any more' -but then I can't say, 'Miss, you may love somebody else.' She's a treasure, I know; and though I'm content not to take the treasure to myself, I shouldn't like to see it in another man's keeping.

Rons. What the devil do you mean by that? Do you want to make a fool of the girl? Write, I tell you. Waiter!

Enter BRANDT from the Inn.

Pens, ink, and paper!

Bran. You'll find 'em all in the room at the side there, where mistress makes out her bills.

[Exit BRANDT. Carl. [Rises.] I will write, as you insist upon it; for, after the breakfast you have given me, Mr. Soldier,