decide a wager. You must disguise yourself
as your mistress, when you will be admitted into the presence of
Captain Armstrong.

ROSE. Captain Armstrong.--Goodness gracious!

CLEVELAND. Hear me out. A pretended chaplain will be by, and a sham
form of marriage will be gone through with--

ROSE. Only in jest? Why, what a funny joke!

CLEVELAND. Capital! capital! Ha! ha! ha!

ROSE. Ha! ha! ha! A splendid joke, sir. But I don't quite understand
it.

CLEVELAND. Oh, you understand enough. You must not speak above the
lowest whisper, nor let the Captain see your features. A few words and
the--the--ha, ha, ha--the joke is through with--

ROSE. I see--I see.

CLEVELAND. And then to-morrow when he comes to know it--don't you
see--we will have a run on the Captain--'twill be the rarest sport
when found out.

ROSE. But suppose now it should turn out to be a real no-mistake
marriage.

CLEVELAND. But it can't. The priest is a sham--that's the point of the
joke.

ROSE. That's the point of the joke, eh?

CLEVELAND. Come, will you do it?

ROSE. Well--I am doubtful.

CLEVELAND. Only carry it out well, and you shall have fifty pounds.

ROSE. I am convinced, as old intrigues are dull, I want pastime, and
would like to earn fifty pounds, and if my chances in other quarters
are uninjured, why--

CLEVELAND. You will do it?

ROSE. Will the Captain think it a jest?

CLEVELAND. He thinks there is a plan on foot to introduce your
mistress to him for a similar purpose.

ROSE. And when he finds that he has married plain Bridget instead of
Miss Rose--what a rage he will be in! Oh, what a delightful jest--

CLEVELAND. The funniest you ever heard of. Such laughing as there will
be!

ROSE. Fifty pounds--all in gold--is more than I can stand.

CLEVELAND. Then meet me in five minutes, by yonder tree.

ROSE. I'll slip on one of my mistress's dresses, and in five minutes
be ready--but remember--_fifty pounds_!

[_Exit_ ROSE.

CLEVELAND. [_Rubbing his hands_.] The best of tricks. Ha! ha! ha!

[_Exit_.

_Enter_ METCALF _and_ ELSWORTH.

ELSWORTH. Ha, ha, ha! Bravo, Metcalf! a good jest, sir.--Bridget
disguised as Rose--ha! ha! ha!

METCALF. It's exquisitely funny, sir--only I think you don't quite
understand it--

ELSWORTH. It's you, Metcalf, that don't understand it. It's nothing
but a piece of military deviltry. Why, my innocent sir, Armstrong's
confinement is only a sham--it doesn't mean anything--Cleveland told