Semi pavilion and Garden. Moonlight. Eva is lying in bed, the light streaming in upon her. Marie, St. Clair, Tom, Ophelia, grouped about the bed. Music. All the negroes kneeling without.

  ST. CLAIR. Silence! Hush!

  OPHE. All is over!

  ST. CLAIR. No, no! Speak to me, my Eva.

  EVA. (Awaking) Is that you, papa?

  ST. CLAIR. Yes, darling.

  EVA. Are all the servants here—Mammy, Uncle Tom—all?

  TOM. Oh! yes, Miss Eva.

  EVA. You gave them each a little lock of my hair?

  TOM. Yes, Miss Eva.

  ST. CLAIR. Hush! darling. Oh! my heart is breaking.

  EVA. We shall meet again, papa. I see the little boat waiting for me now to carry me over the dark sea to the heavenly shore.

  ST. CLAIR. Oh! my child, my loved one!

  EVA. Don't cry, papa. I feel no pain. Already the soft breeze fans my cheek. Look, papa, there.

(Rises, panting.

  ST. CLAIR. My darling! My darling!

  EVA. The angels hold out their hands to me. I am coming—coming—good-bye.

(She falls back dead.)

  TOM. She is gone, Massa, gone to de dear Lord forever.

  ST. CLAIR. (Falling on his knees.) Forever! Yes! Oh, my darling! Well may the angels welcome thee with a joyous clang, for we must sing a dirge here upon earth.

(Dirge by the Chorus.)

TABLEAU.

DROP.