Sandy (slowly, but with more calmness of demeanor). Gone, gone--forever! No: I am not mad, nor crazed with drink. My hands no longer tremble. There is no confusion here. (Feeling his forehead). I heard them all. It was no dream. I heard her every word. Alexander Morton, yes, they spoke of Alexander Morton. She is going to him, to my father. She is going--she, Mary, my cousin--she is going to my father. He has been seeking me--has found--ah! (Groans.) No, no, Sandy! Be patient, be calm: you are not crazy--no, no, good Sandy, good old boy! Be patient, be patient: it is coming, it is coming. Yes, I see: some one has leaped into my place; some one has leaped into the old man's arms. Some one will creep into HER heart! No! by God! No! I am Alexander Morton. Yes, yes! But how, how shall I prove it?--how? Who (CONCHO steps cautiously forward towards SANDY unobserved) will believe the vagabond, the outcast--my God!--the crazy drunkard? Concho (advancing, and laying his hand on SANDY). I will! Sandy (staggering back amazedly). You! Concho. Yes,--I, I,--Concho! You know me, Diego, you know me,--Concho, the major-domo of the Blessed Innocents. Ha! You know me now. Yes, I have come to save you. I have come to make you strong. So--I have come to help you strip the Judas that has stepped into your place,--the sham prodigal that has had the fatted calf and the ring,--ah! ah! Sandy. You? You do not know me! Concho. Ah! you think, you think, eh? Listen: Since you left I have tracked HIM--THE IMPOSTOR, this Judas, this coyote--step by step, until his tracks crossed yours; and then I sought you out. I know all. I found a letter you had dropped; that brought me to Poker Flat. Ah, you start! I have seen those who knew you as Alexander Morton. You see! Ah, I am wise. Sandy (aside). It is true. (Aloud.) But (suspiciously) why have you done this? You, Concho?--you were not my friend. Concho. No, but HE is my enemy. Ah, you start! Look at me, Alexander Morton, Sandy, Diego! You knew a man, strong, active, like yourself. Eh! Look at me now! Look at me, a cripple! Eh! lame and crushed here (pointing to his leg), broken and crushed here (pointing to his heart), by him,--the impostor! Listen, Diego. The night I was sent to track you from the rancho, he--this man--struck me from the wall, dashed me to the earth, and made MY BODY, broken and bruised, a stepping-stone to leap the wall into your place, Diego,--into your father's heart,--into my master's home. They found me dead, they thought,--no, not dead, Diego! It was sad, they said,--unfortunate. They nursed me; they talked of money--eh, Diego!--money! They would have pensioned me to hush scandal--eh! I was a dog, a foreigner, a Greaser! Eh! That is why I am here. No! I love you not, Diego; you are of his race; but I hate--Mother of God!--I HATE him!