Far away in the rear was heard cheer after cheer.—­Three Years in the Sixth Corps.

ACT IV.

WASHINGTON, 1865.  RESIDENCE OF GENERAL BUCKTHORN.

I feel that we are on the eve of a new era, when there is to be great harmony between the Federal and Confederate.—­GEN.  GRANT’S Memoirs.

SHENANDOAH

ACT I.

CHARLESTON HARBOUR IN 1861.  “AFTER THE BALL.”

SCENE. A Southern Residence on the shore of Charleston Harbour.  Interior.—­Large double doors up centre, open.  Large, wide window, with low sill.  Veranda beyond the doors, and extending beyond window.  A wide opening with corridor beyond.  Furniture and appointments quaint and old-fashioned, but an air of brightness and of light; the general tone of the walls and upholstery that of the old Colonial period in its more ornamental and decorative phase, as shown in the early days of Charleston.  Old candlesticks and candelabra, with lighted candles nearly burned down.  Beyond the central doors and the window, there is a lawn with Southern foliage, extending down to the shores of the harbour; a part of the bay lies in the distance, with low-lying land beyond.  The lights of Charleston are seen over the water along the shore.  Moonlight.  The gray twilight of early morning gradually steals over the scene as the Act progresses.

DISCOVERED, As the curtain rises KERCHIVAL WEST is sitting in a chair, his feet extended and his head thrown back, a handkerchief over his face.  ROBERT ELLINGHAM strolls in on veranda, beyond window, smoking.  He looks right, starts and moves to window; leans against the upper side of the window and looks across.

ELLINGHAM.  Kerchival!

KERCHIVAL. [Under handkerchief.] Eh?  H’m!

ELLINGHAM.  Can you sleep at a time like this?  My own nerves are on fire.

KERCHIVAL.  Fire?  Oh—­yes—­I remember.  Any more fire-works, Bob?

ELLINGHAM.  A signal rocket from one of the batteries, now and then. [Goes up beyond window.  KERCHIVAL arouses himself, taking handkerchief from his eyes.

KERCHIVAL.  What a preposterous hour to be up.  The ball was over an hour ago, all the guests are gone, and it’s nearly four o’clock. [Looks at his watch.] Exactly ten minutes of four. [Takes out a cigar..] Our Southern friends assure us that General Beauregard is to open fire on Fort Sumter this morning.  I don’t believe it. [Lighting cigar and rising, crosses and looks out through window.] There lies the old fort—­solemn and grim as ever, and the flagstaff stands above it, like a warning finger.  If they do fire upon it—­[Shutting his teeth for a moment and looking down at the cigar in his hand.]—­the echo of that first shot will be heard above their graves, and heaven knows how many of our own, also; but the flag will still float!—­over the graves of both sides.