GREEN. Kill a fellow creature at the first word! Rash young man, we must have two words to that! Let the signal be "_Death and Glory_;" you shall take "_Death_" and I'll have "_Glory._" MRS. G. And then fire? Very well, now mind your eye. "_Death!_" GREEN. (_dodging about in great alarm_) Hollo! stop! stop! what are you about? My glory is not ready for death!--let's deliberate a little! (_GREENFINCH is now behind the stove_) MRS. G. Oh, nonsense! I never deliberate--are you ready? GREEN. Yes--I'm ready now! MRS. G. Very well, then--look sharp! (_GREENFINCH ducks behind the stove_) _Death!_ GREEN. _Glory!_ (_both fire; MRS. G. drops her pistol and falls into chair, R.C., with a groan_) Hallo! What's that? Have I hit you? MRS. G. Hit me? yes; the ball has penetrated my side--here--close to the heart! I feel--I'm dying--give--give me your hand old fellow! GREEN. Where are you? MRS. G. Here--here! (_GREENFINCH stumbles against her_) GREEN. Ha! he _is_ floored! What shall I do?--shall I call for help?--run for the doctor? (_crosses to R._) MRS. G. No--'tis no use! (_faintly_) Assist me to my room--will you? (_GREENFINCH assists her_) Ah, you're a dead shot, Greenfinch! GREEN. Ha! then I _am_ Greenfinch--you confess it? MRS. G. Yes, you're the real original Greenfinch. Good bye, my boy, I forgive you; but you'll be hanged for my murder if you're caught! GREEN. Hanged for your murder! You don't mean that? MRS. G. Yes, I do; we fought in the dark you know--that's murder--and you'll be hanged for it--but you don't mind it. GREEN. Don't I though! My good friend, you musn't think of dying--consider the fatal consequence to _me!_ MRS. G. Can't help it--it's all over with me--good bye--your wife's an angel--and I--I am--oh!---- (_drops her head on his shoulder and feigns to die_) GREEN. Good gracious! What do you mean? Hallo! (_shaking her_) there's not a stir in him--he's dead--dead as the twelve Cæsars. Unfortunate youth! he's gone to settle his long account, and has left a heavy balance in my hands. What's to be done now? I know:--I'll conceal him in the bedroom here (_moving towards door R., a scream is heard in room L._) Bless me! what's that? Something dreadful, I'm sure! Oh, lord, my knees are sinking under me--I havn't strength to move a step further! (_staggers against the easy chair_) Ha! this chair--providential thought--I'll cover him up in it. (_he places MRS. G. in the chair, and throws the travelling cloak, which hangs on the back of the chair over her, so as to completely conceal her_) Now I'll make a coroner's inquest of myself and sit upon the victim's body! (_sits_) Hah! what a dreadful position is mine! (_another scream in room, L._) There again! _Enter BETSY, with lighted candle, from room, 2 E. L.; stage light._ BETSY. Oh, sir! Mr. Greenfinch are you there? GREEN. (_aside_) Which Greenfinch does she mean? him (_pointing to MRS. G. behind him_) or me? Yes, Betsy, I'm here.