of the door stands a small table. To the left of this table is a kitchen chair. A door leading to the yard is in the centre of the unbroken wall back; to the right of the door, a cupboard, to the left, a stove. In the wall right are two windows. Between them is a bench, on which there are a pail and a dipper; above the bench a towel hanging on a nail, and above the towel a double-barrelled shot-gun suspended on two pegs.

In the wall left, and well down stage, is a closed door leading to another room. In the centre of the kitchen stands a large table; to the right and left of this, two straight-backed chairs.

The walls are roughly plastered. The stage is lighted by the moon, which shines into the room through the windows, and a candle on table centre. When the door back is opened, a glimpse of a desolate farmyard is seen in the moonlight.

When the curtain rises, THADDEUS TRASK, a man of fifty or sixty years of age, short and thick set, slow in speech and movement, yet in perfect health, sits lazily smoking his pipe in a chair at the right of the centre table.

After a moment, MARY TRASK, a tired, emaciated woman, whose years equal her husband's, enters from the yard, carrying a pail of water and a lantern. She puts the pail on the bench and hangs the lantern above it; then crosses to the stove.

MARY. Ain't got wood 'nough fer breakfast, Thad.

THADDEUS. I'm too tired to go out now; wait till mornin'.

[Pause. MARY lays the fire in the stove.]

Did I tell ye that old man Reed saw three Southern troopers pass his house this mornin'?

MARY [takes coffee pot from stove, crosses to bench, fills pot with water]. I wish them soldiers would git out o' the neighborhood. Whenever I see 'em passin', I have t' steady myself 'gainst somethin' or I'd fall. I couldn't hardly breathe yesterday when the Southerners came after fodder. I'd die if they spoke t' me.

THADDEUS. Ye needn't be afraid of Northern soldiers.

MARY [puts coffee pot on stove]. I hate 'em all—Union or Southern. I can't make head or tail t' what all this fightin's 'bout. An' I don't care who wins, so long as they git through, an' them soldiers stop stealin' our corn an' potatoes.

THADDEUS. Ye can't hardly blame 'em if they're hungry, ken ye?

MARY. It ain't right that they should steal from us poor folk. [Lifts a huge gunny sack of potatoes from the table and begins setting the table for breakfast, getting knives, forks, spoons, plates, cups, and saucers—two of each—from the cupboard.] We have hard 'nough times t' make things meet now. I ain't set down onct to-day, 'cept fer meals; an' when I think o' the work I got t' do t'morrow, I ought t' been in bed hours ago.

THADDEUS. I'd help if I could, but it ain't my fault if the Lord see'd fit t' lay me up, so I'm always ailin'. [Rises lazily.] Ye better try an' take things easy t'morrow.

MARY. It's well 'nough t' say, but them apples got t' be picked an' the rest o' the potatoes sorted. If I could sleep at night it'd be all right, but with them soldiers 'bout, I can't.

THADDEUS [crosses to right; fondly handles his double-barrelled shot-gun]. Jolly, wish I'd see a flock o' birds.

MARY [showing nervousness]. I'd rather go without than hear ye fire. I wish ye didn't keep it loaded.

THADDEUS. Ye know I ain't got time t' stop an' load when I see the birds. They don't wait fer ye. [Hangs gun on wall, drops into his chair, dejectedly.] Them pigs has got to be butchered.

MARY. Wait till I git a chance t' go t' sister's. I can't stand it t' hear 'em squeal.

THADDEUS [pulling off his boots, grunting meanwhile]. Best go soon then, 'cause they's fat as they'll ever be, an' there ain't no use in wastin' feed on 'em. [Pause, rises.] Ain't ye most ready fer bed?

MARY. Go on up.

[THADDEUS takes candle in one hand, boots in other; moves toward stairs.]

An', Thad, try not t' snore to-night.

THADDEUS [reaching the landing]. Hit me if I do. [Disappears from view.]

[MARY fills the kettle with water and puts it on the stove; closes the door back; takes the lantern from the wall, tries twice before she succeeds in blowing it out. Puts the lantern on the table before the cubby-hole. Drags herself up the stairs, pausing a moment on the top step for breath before she disappears from sight. There is a silence. Then the door back is opened a trifle and a man's hand is seen. Cautiously the door is opened wide, and a young NORTHERN SOLDIER is silhouetted on the threshold. He wears a dirty uniform and has a bloody bandage tied about his head. He is wounded, sick, and exhausted. He stands at the door a moment, listening intently; then hastily crosses to the centre table looking for food. He bumps against the chair and mutters an oath. Finding nothing on the table, he moves toward the cupboard. Suddenly the galloping of horses is heard in the distance. The NORTHERNER starts; then rushes to the window nearer the audience. For a moment the sound ceases, then it begins again, growing gradually louder and louder. The NORTHERNER hurries through the door left. Horses and voices are heard, in the yard, and almost immediately heavy thundering knocks sound on the door back. A racket is heard above stairs. The knockers on the door grow impatient, and push the door open. A large, powerful SOUTHERN SERGEANT and a smaller, more youthful TROOPER of the same army enter. At the same time, THADDEUS appears on the stairs, carrying a candle.]

SERGEANT [to THADDEUS; not unkindly]. Sorry, my friend, but you were so darn slow 'bout openin' the door, that we had to walk in. Has there been a Northern soldier round here to-day?

THADDEUS [timidly]. I ain't seed one.

SERGEANT. Have you been here all day?

THADDEUS. I ain't stirred from the place.

SERGEANT. Call the rest of your family down.

THADDEUS. My wife's all there is. [Goes to foot of stairs, and calls loudly and excitedly.] Mary! Mary! Come down right off.

SERGEANT. You better not lie to me or it'll go tough with you.

THADDEUS. I swear I ain't seed no one.

[MARY comes downstairs slowly. She is all atremble.]

THADDEUS. Say, Mary, you was h——

SERGEANT. You keep still, man. I'll question her myself. [To MARY.] You were here at the house all day?

[MARY is very fearful and embarrassed, but after a moment manages to nod her head slowly.] You didn't take a trip down to the store? [MARY shakes her head slowly.] Haven't you got a tongue?

MARY [with difficulty]. Y-e-s.

SERGEANT. Then use it. The Northern soldier who came here a while ago was pretty badly wounded, wasn't he?

MARY. I—I—no one's been here.

SERGEANT. Come, come, woman, don't lie. [MARY shows a slight sign of anger.] He had a bad cut in his forehead, and you felt sorry for him, and gave him a bite to eat.

MARY [haltingly]. No one's been near the house to-day.

SERGEANT [trying a different tone]. We're not going to hurt him, woman. He's a friend of ours. We want to find him, and put him in a hospital, don't we, Dick? [Turning to his companion.]

DICK. He's sick and needs to go to bed for a while.

MARY. He ain't here.

SERGEANT. What do you want to lie for?

MARY [quickly]. I ain't lyin'. I ain't seed no soldier.

THADDEUS. No one could 'a' come without her seein' 'em.

SERGEANT. I suppose you know what'll happen to you if you are hidin' the man? [MARY stands rooted to the spot where she stopped when she came downstairs. Her eyes are fixed on the SERGEANT.]

THADDEUS. There ain't no one here. We both been here all day, an' there couldn't no one come without our knowin' it. What would they want round here anyway?

SERGEANT. We'll search the place.

MARY [quickly]. Ye ain't got no——

SERGEANT [sharply]. What's that, woman?

MARY. There ain't no one here, an' ye're keepin' us from our sleep.

SERGEANT. Your sleep? This is an affair of life and death. Get us a lantern.

[THADDEUS moves to the table which stands