No, unless she's at her lodgings, she's taking a walk on this fine autumnal evening in some quiet, retired locality. Then, where should she come but here? The walk on the walls, the quietest place in York, and the place of all others that every stranger goes to see, and--and--now I look before me, who is that I see approaching? By all that's lucky, 'tis herself.
MAGDALEN enters, R. MAGDALEN . The evening is drawing in, so it's time I should return, and----
WRAG. (advances and bows). I have the honor, I believe, to address Miss Magdalen Vanstone.
MAG. Sir?
WRAG. Deeply gratified, I'm sure; and for more reasons than one.
MAG. I--I think, sir, you're mistaken; you are a perfect stranger to me.
WRAG. Pardon me, Miss Vanstone, I am a species of relation; a connection of your lamented mother's, whom I'm sure you must have heard of. My name is Wragge.
MAG. I remember your name, certainly; but you will excuse me for leaving you, I have an engagement. (she tries to pass him, he interposes)
WRAG. Not that way, my dear Miss Vanstone, not that way, I entreat.
MAG. And why not, sir?
WRAG. Because that way leads to the theatre, and because this document refers to it. (gives her handbill.)
MAG. What do I see? Advertised! Put in print, as if I were a stray dog; and a price set on my recovery.
WRAG. A legal method, my dear Miss Vanstone; which I confess is not the most gallant, but----
MAG. And is this thing shown publicly; am I thus described all over York?
WRAG. Pray compose yourself; I believe we have been so lucky as to peruse the first copy that has been circulated.
MAG. And the last! (tears it up and scatters pieces.)
WRAG. Bravo, bravo! Here you remind me of your poor dear mother. The family spirit; we all possess it; we all inherit our hot blood from my maternal grandfather.
MAG. How did you come by it?
WRAG. My dear child, I have just told you. We all come by it from my maternal grandfather.
MAG. I mean that bill, sir?
WRAG. Oh, the bill! I found the bill, where we meet many strange things, at the station; and seeing it was intended for the City Walls, I thought I would first find if you were here.
MAG. As a means of earning the reward.
WRAG. Smart that, very smart; some men might take it seriously; but in the relation that I stand in to you, as a sort of--kind of--uncle--
MAG. You feel you have a double claim to it.
WRAG. Now, my dear young relative, consider. Have your friends any need to pay it? Can't you go back by the first train?
MAG. Never! Nothing should force me. If my mind had not been made up already, that vile handbill would decide me.
WRAG. Quite right--the family spirit. I should have done the same myself at your age--it runs in the blood. (clock strikes) What's that? Half-past seven. Pardon me, my dear Miss Vanstone, this seasonable abruptness; but if you carry out your resolution, you must choose your course in half an hour. You are young; allow me to say, you are inexperienced--you are in danger--you require some one to rely upon.
MAG. Suppose I choose to rely upon myself, sir.
WRAG. Then you will enter the city of course, and fall into one of the traps that have been set for you, either at the theatre, or at your lodgings.
MAG. I may not go to the theatre to-night; and at present I have no lodgings.
WRAG. No lodgings? Well, really, I respect independence of character. In a young and lovely relative, I more than respect, I admire it; but without being considered too intrusive, may I ask where you intend to sleep?
WAG. Are there no hotels?
WRAG. Excellent ones for families--excellent ones for single gentlemen; but the very worst ones in the world for handsome young ladies who present themselves without male escort, or even luggage.
MAG. My luggage is at the station. What is to prevent my sending for it?
WRAG. Nothing--and nothing to prevent your having back with it the lawyer's clerk, or the detective, who have been dispatched from London on your track.
MAG. Good Heavens!
WRAG. I merely point out that contingency for your serious consideration; and, on the strength of it, ask once more, where are you to sleep?
MAG. (after a pause, bitterly). I know not.
WRAG. Then I do; under my roof, of course, where Mrs. Wragge will be so charmed to see you.
MAG. Under your roof?
WRAG. Where so proper? The roof of your relative--of the man you must regard in the light of--a sort of uncle. So you must look on his wife as your aunt. Pray look upon her as your aunt. The house is close by; we are its only lodgers, and there is, luckily, a bed to let. So we should form a family party--a snug family party. Allow me to offer you my arm.
MAG. And yet, sir----
WRAG. You hesitate. Good gracious! is it possible, Miss Vanstone, you can have heard anything to my disadvantage?
MAG. Quite possible. I may have heard from other friends that--that--you are an impostor.
WRAG. Ha, ha! this horrid world--this age which feeds on slander. And yet, if it were the fact, without intending to be offensive--may I ask, my dear Miss Vanstone, if the position you now stand in is one that gives you a right to reject an imposter's services?
MAG. Well, no, you are quite right; besides, I have no name to endanger. I'm nobody's child, and nobody's child must sleep under somebody's roof.
WRAG. So, why not under mine?
MAG. I admit it. I accept your offer.
WRAG. Then if you will accompany me this way----
MAG. What must be, must be; 'tis too late to retreat, (she follows him off L.)
SCENE II.--CAPTAIN WRAGGE'S lodgings. A parlor in 3d grooves. MRS. WRAGGE discovered seated at table, a tattered book upon her knees, which she turns over.
MRS. W. Here it is--here's the place at last. "How to cook an omelet." Yes, an omelet with herbs. He wants it for his breakfast tomorrow, and I must learn to do it some how. (reads) "Beat up two eggs with a little milk or water; salt, pepper, chives, or parsley, mince small." There--how am I to mince small when it's all mixed up and running? "Put a piece of butter, the size of your thumb, into the frying-pan"-- the size of your thumb--mine or anybody's.