Sandy (hesitating). I say, Jack, he wasn't taken sick along o' me, eh, Jack? Oakhurst. No! No! But go (pushing him toward door). Sandy. Hold on: I'm going. But, Jack, I've got a kind of faintness yer, too. (Goes to side-table, and takes up decanter.) And thar's nothing reaches that faintness like whiskey. (Fills glass.) Old Morton (drunkenly and half-consciously from couch). Whiskey--who shed--whiskey--eh? Eh--O--gimme some, Aleck--Aleck, my son,--my son!--my old prodigal--Old Proddy, my boy--gimme--whiskey--(sings)-- Oh, yer's yer good old whiskey, Drink it down! Eh? I com--mand you,--pass the whiskey! SANDY, at first panic-stricken, and then remorsefully conscious, throws glass down, with gesture of fear and loathing. OAKHURST advances to his side hurriedly. Oakhurst (in hurried whisper). Give him the whiskey, quick! It will keep him quiet. (Is about to take decanter when SANDY seizes it: struggle with OAKHURST.) Sandy (with feeling). No, no, Jack, no! (Suddenly with great strength and determination, breaks from him, and throws decanter from window.) No, NEVER! Old Morton (struggling drunkenly to his feet). Eh--who sh'd never? (OAKHURST shoves SANDY in room L., and follows him, closing door.) Eh, Aleck? (Groping.) Eh, where'sh light? All gone. (Lapses on sofa again, after an ineffectual struggle to get up, and then resumes his old attitude.) (Change scene quickly.) SCENE 3.--Ante-room in MR. MORTON'S villa. Front scene. Enter DON JOSE CASTRO and CONCHO, preceded by SERVANT, L. Servant. This way, gentlemen. Don Jose. Carry this card to Alexander Morton, sen. Servant. Beg pardon, sir, but there's only one name here, sir (looking at CONCHO). Don Jose (proudly). That is my servant, sir. [Exit SERVANT. Don Jose (aside). I don't half like this business. But my money locked up in his bank, and my daughter's hand bound to his son, demand it. (Aloud.) This is no child's play, Concho, you understand. Concho. Ah! I am wise. Believe me, if I have not proofs which shall blanch the cheek of this old man, I am a fool, Don Jose! Re-enter SERVANT. Servant. Mr. Morton, sen., passed a bad night, and has left word not to be disturbed this morning. But Mr. Morton, jun., will attend you, sir. Concho (aside). So the impostor will face it out. Well, let him come. Don Jose (to SERVANT) I wait his pleasure. [Exit SERVANT. Don Jose. You hear, Concho? You shall face this man. I shall repeat to him all you have told me. If you fail to make good your charge, on your head rests the consequences. Concho. He will of course deny. He is a desperate man: he will perhaps attack me. Eh! Ah! (Drawing revolver.) Don Jose. Put up your foolish weapon. The sight of the father he has deceived will be more terrible to him than the pistol of the spy. Enter COL. STARBOTTLE, C. Starbottle. Mr. Alexander Morton, Jun., will be with you in a moment. (Takes attitude by door, puts his hand in his breast, and inflates himself.)