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 h