class="sc">Walter. This bottle contains a fluid which will, so says your nephew, if injected into the ear, freeze or suspend the animation of the subject so operated on, until another fluid, injected into the other ear, restores life. The difficulty is to persuade any one to submit himself to so hazardous an experiment; but he has so excited the curiosity of Mr. Watmuff, that he has consented that you should be subjected—

Mrs. W. He has consented? I gather, sir, that my consent would also be necessary.

Walter. Here comes the base part of it. You are not to be told. Swift is to suggest that you should use his precious fluid as a remedy for neuralgia. For Heaven's sake, refuse to use it, for any one who does would do so at the peril of his life. Good-by, madam. I believe that my warning is a timely one, and I am thankful to be the means of rendering you this small service.

(Exit door, R., Walter Litherland, who immediately returns and hides behind screen, unnoticed by Mrs. Watmuff.)

Mrs. W. A timely warning, truly! I feel as one in a trance. I have long doubted the fidelity of Mr. Watmuff,—I have long understood the duplicity of his character,—but I had not thought him capable of such vile machinations as these. Cold-blooded miscreants!—they would suspend my animation, would they? Oh, Mr. Watmuff, you must be read a bitter lesson for this. It will be hard for me to take a part in a masquerade, but the memory of my parents demands this immortelle from me. (Takes up the bottle, empties it of its contents, and fills it up from a bottle of water which is on table.) Yes, I will affect to be deceived by your blandishments, and you shall think that you have succeeded in your most vile purpose. Shades of my parents, hover near me, and protect your daughter in the Juliet-like ordeal through which she is about to pass!

(Enter Mr. Watmuff and Ferdinand Swift, door R.)

Mr. W. Oh, there you are, my dear. I've been looking for you everywhere. I wanted to tell you Ferdinand Swift had unexpectedly arrived in England.

Fer. And I need hardly say, my dear aunt, that my first desire was to come and pay my respects to you.

Mrs. W. You are welcome, nephew.

Mr. W. I think you'll say that again, my dear, when you hear of what Ferdinand has brought with him. You must know that he is the bearer to England of, and is about to introduce to this country, a most extraordinary remedy—for what do you think?

Mrs. W. How should I hazard a conjecture, Mr. Watmuff?

Mr. W. For neuralgia! There! isn't that good news?

Mrs. W. It would, indeed, be a boon, could some efficacious specific be found to war with that most terrible disorder.

Fer. My dear aunt, it has been found. It may seem a curious thing to say, but, when I inquired after your health—which, of course, I did the moment I came into the house—and my uncle told me that you suffered from neuralgia, I was positively glad to know that I could be the happy means of at once and permanently relieving you from all pain.

Mrs. W. If what you say is true, nephew, you will be a benefactor to suffering humanity. You should deem yourself very fortunate to be such an instrument.

Fer. My dear aunt, I do think myself fortunate. To be running about from morning to night, as I am, continually relieving my fellow creatures from the excruciating pangs of neuralgia, makes life one long summer's day of happiness. It makes me so light-hearted that I'm always singing, or humming, or whistling, and so I'm known among my friends as the musical instrument.

Mrs. W. And what, may I ask, is your remedy?

Fer. The simplest thing in the world. You take—(feeling in his pocket for bottle)—Hullo! By Jove!—(seeing bottle on table)—Ah! yes, to be sure, I left it here. You take two or three drops of this colorless fluid, make the smallest of punctures in the lobe of the right ear, inject it, and the pain goes as if by magic. If you are suffering now, aunt—

Mrs. W. I am always suffering.

Fer. Then let me try.

Mr. W. Yes, my dear. Let Ferdinand try.

Mrs. W. It is your wish that I should do so, Mr. Watmuff?

Mr. W. My dear, of course it is. I would give anything to see you free from pain.

Mrs. W. It is enough; my husband's wish is law to me. (To Ferdinand.) Apply your remedy, sir.

Fer. With pleasure. (Brings down large easy-chair.)

Walter (aside, appearing from behind screen at back). I am glad I made up my mind to see through this. Upon my soul, I'm beginning to admire Mrs. Watmuff. What ruffians these men are!

Fer. Now, my dear aunt, sit in this chair, and lean back. You will soon be free from pain.

Mr. W. Yes, my love, do just as Ferdinand tells you, and you will soon be free from pain.

Fer. (operating). All that you will feel is one sharp prick in the lobe of the ear,—there,—I haven't even drawn blood. Now for the bottle.

(As the water is applied, Mrs. Watmuff becomes gradually stiff and rigid; finally her eyes close, her hands drop, and she appears to be lifeless.)

Fer. Pretty process, isn't it?

Mr. W. Beautiful! How calm she is! I never saw her calmer.

Fer. No; and I don't suppose you ever will again.

Mr. W. Ferdinand, I wouldn't have her hear me for the world, but I have an awful time of it with this woman.

Fer. I don't doubt you. I've always considered my aunt as the most unpleasant person of my acquaintance. (Lights a cigar.) Smoke, uncle?

Mr. W. Thanks, Ferdinand. (Lights cigar.) Ah! That's real enjoyment. That's the first cigar I've smoked since I married your aunt. She never would let me. Would it bring her to if I blew some smoke in her face, Ferdinand?

Fer. Not at all. Only the infallible mixture will restore her.

Mr. W. (blows smoke of cigar into Mrs. Watmuff's face). There! There! There! There! That's done me a lot of good, Ferdinand, and now we'll have a glass of wine. (Puts his hand into Mrs. Watmuff's pocket and produces key.) She pocketed the cellar key on our wedding-day, Ferdinand, and has kept it ever since; but, by Gad, I'll have a duplicate made now.

Fer. Quite right; but before you get the wine, let's put the old woman away somewhere. In the first place, she isn't a pleasant sight; and, in the second place, if any one came in they might be startled. Where shall she go?

Mr. W. (pointing to cupboard). I should like to put her in the coal-hole. Would that cupboard do?

Fer. The very thing. Lend me a hand with her. You must do this part of the business carefully,—that's the one objection to the process. A frozen body like this would break to pieces if you dropped it, and you don't want that.