SIR JASPER COMBE, _a Royalist Colonel_ MR. HOWE. DAN’L DRUCE MR. HERMANN VEZIN. REUBEN HAINES, _a Royalist Sergeant_ MR. ODELL. GEOFFREY WYNYARD, _a Merchant Sailor_ MR. FORBES ROBERTSON. MARPLE MR. BRAID. JOE RIPLEY, _a Fisherman_ MR. WEATHERSBY. SERGEANT } _Of the Parliamentary_ { MR. C. ALLBROOK. SOLDIER } _Army_ { MR. FIELDER. DOROTHY MISS MARION TERRY. _The First Act is supposed to take place shortly after the Battle of Worcester._ An interval of fourteen years between the First and Second Acts. ACT I. A RUINED HUT ON THE NORFOLK COAST. ACT II. DAN’L DRUCE’S FORGE. ACT III. INTERIOR OF DRUCE’S COTTAGE. DAN’L DRUCE, BLACKSMITH. ACT I. SCENE.--_Interior of DAN’L DRUCE’S hut, a tumble-down old shanty, of the rudest description; with very small wood fire. The whole place is as squalid and miserable as possible. Wind and snow without. Rain and wind heard each time door is opened. Night._ _Rip._ (_without_). Hullo! Dan’l, art within? (_Knocks._) Dan’l, I say, open, will you? (_He kicks the door open._) Why, the hut’s empty. Where’s the old devil gone, I wonder? Come in, master, out of the storm. _Enter MARPLE._ Don’t be afeard (_MARPLE shuts door_); he’ll be a bit rusty, to be sure, at our coming in without leave, but that’ll blow off sooner than the gale outside. _Mar._ Is the man away? _Rip._ Nay, he’s never a hundred yards from this; he’s hauling up his boat on the beach, maybe, or taking in his nets, and making all snug and taut for the night; and well he may, for the devil’s let loose, and there’ll be mischief afore morning. The devil likes these here Norfolk coasts, burn him! _Mar._ And so Jonas lives here. _Rip._ Jonas? No, Dan’l--Dan’l Druce. _Mar._ Well, Dan’l Druce, if that’s what he calls himself. It’s a strange hole for such a man as he! _Rip._ It’s a fit hole for such a dog as he! A surly, scowling, drunken, miserly, half-starved cur! Never was a sulky hound so far athwart the world’s ways as Dan’l Druce. Why, he’s as rich as a Jew, and never gave bit nor sup to a soul in the town. Oh, take my word for it, it’s a fit hole for such as he. There’s only one fitter, and I wish he was in it! _Mar._ Stop that cursed red rag of yours, will you? _Rip._ Come, come, civil words, master, civil words! _Mar._ Set the example. I am this man’s brother. _Rip._ (_aside_). Well, you’ve got the family tongue in your head, anyhow. If you’re his brother, maybe you know how he came to live here all alone? _Mar._ Maybe I do. _Rip._ They say that before he came here--a matter o’ three or four years since--he was a decent sort o’ body enough, a blacksmith, I _do_ hear, but he got struck half silly like through some bad luck, and he’s been a changed man ever since. _Mar._ Oh, they say that, do they?