_Charles._ Silence! (_Snatches note from_ DOLBY, _and runs to_ C.) And you, madam, what have you to say to it? (_Gives note to_ MRS. C.)
_Mrs. C._ (_looking at it._) Say! What can I say? This in no way concerns me.
_Mrs. C._ O, the picture. (_Looks at it._) Why, it’s our Nelly.
_Nelly._ Yes, our Nelly--who is answerable for all this mischief. She is the writer of the note--the unknown correspondent of our friend Mr. Dixon Dolby, Rosa Bean.
_Dolby._ Well, that’s clever (_runs up to her_, C.). How do you do (_shakes hands_). (_They go to lounge and sit talking._)
_Charles._ What could I do? Your aunt Bobstay brought me your picture, which somehow has mysteriously disappeared.
_Bobstay_ (_jumping up_). “Mysteriously disappeared.” Hark! listen! (_reads._) “All friends of the supposed-to-be-drowned Sylvester Spanker, especially his widow, are hereby notified that he has returned to his ship, the Venetian Red, and will sail this day for Valparaiso.” Ha, ha! ho, ho! He’s found, and I am free! Widow, I congratulate you.
_Persis._ Spanker alive! Thank fortune, I am no longer dependent on the cold charities of the world!
_Bobstay._ Madam, put it there (_they shake hands_). We’ll go aboard the Venetian Red this very day. I’ll return property, and take my receipt, tear up our certificate, give you my blessing, and mysteriously disappear.
_Dolby_ (_comes down with_ NELLY). But what’s to become of me? Will you desert the life you saved? Persis--
_Persis._ Bother! You’d better be silent. I was in that room when you told the story with such complimentary allusions to me.
_Charles._ Come, Nelly, let’s have dinner. (_Exit_ NELLY L.) This little muddle is happily ended.
_Dolby._ I’ve had my day’s sport; not just what I expected, but it’s ending happily.
_Charles._ The widow has found her husband.
_Carlos._ Say, you’ll never see that calf again; she’s gin her last blat.
_Charles_ (_gives his wife his arm_, C.). Come, let’s to dinner. (DOLBY _and_ NELLY _arm in arm_, R.; CAPTAIN _and_ MISS PERSIS _arm in arm_, L.) Are you ready, captain?
_Bobstay._ Ay, ay, Charley, with a rousing appetite. So heave ahead; we’ll follow in your wake. I’m happy. You are happy, widow. Yes, we’re all happy--for we’ve had a day’s sport, and all our troubles have--mysteriously disappeared.