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