BRIGHTLY. (_Looking about and at prisoners._) As incomprehensible as ever. The guard drugged and disarmed, and the prisoners unmolested. Corporal, place a guard of twenty men around this building, and you have my orders to shoot any person, man or woman, approaching it without authority. I have placed a barrel of powder beneath, with a fuse attached, leading out under the door. If the Yankees attack us before daybreak, fire the fuse, or kill the prisoners, and join your regiment at once. (_Guard leaves with Corporal, R. Brightly lingers to see all is secure, then leaves R._) HEZEKIAH. (_To Barney._) Bet ye tew dollars this old machine is about gin out. They’re killin’ their own. BARNEY. (_To Hez._) Is he a Gineral? (_D’A. hangs head._) HEZEKIAH. (_To D’A._) Say! Yer couldn’t tell a feller who’s gittin’ licked outside, could ye? (_D’A. gives them no attention._) BARNEY. (_To D’A._) You don’t be talkin’? HEZEKIAH. (_To D’A._) Talk is cheap, and I thought I’d give ye a chance on what ye had the most on. BARNEY. Shoot thim at daylight, sez he. (_Makes a bad face as if about to cry._) HEZEKIAH. Don’t be blubberin’, Barney. BARNEY. Don’t you see the daylight is comin’ through thim cracks there? HEZEKIAH. Let her come. It ain’t goin’ to last long. (_A board lifts up at L. and Zina crawls up through._) D’A. Zina! HEZEKIAH. Now let me die! BARNEY. ’Pon my word! (_Zina motions quiet._) ZINA. The guard! Master D’Arneaux, how are you here? D’A. A victim of the falsehood of your master. ZINA. How? D’A. Convicted of treason by false testimony, and sentenced to die at sunrise. ZINA. Oh this is so cowardly and _unjust_ to you, who have been so brave and kind. Oh what _shall_ I do? D’A. You can do nothing, Zina. ZINA. I will go to the General and say it is _not_ true. D’A. You are but a poor slave girl. It would avail nothing. Zina, through economy and speculations, I have become possessed of five thousand dollars in gold. It is all buried beneath the roots of the old cotton-wood that stands by the grave of our Nelly. No one but my mother knows this. If, by the fortunes of war, I should fall, it would keep my mother from want. If, when peace and independence come, and I should live, to buy your freedom, when I had determined to offer you my heart, hand, and the honor of a soldier. ZINA. Oh you _would_ not throw yourself away on a poor slave! You _do_ not know what you say! D’A. This has been the nurtured ambition of my heart, since, with all your native goodness, I saw your generous devotion to my helpless old mother. ZINA. How _can_ you love a poor, degraded slave girl, who has _nothing_ to offer but these miserable rags, and the memory that she came of the hated race, so despised by all the world. (_Falls on her knees, covers face._)