Slarbottle. Umph! The case is, as you say, a delicate one, but not—not—peculiar. No, sir! Ged, sir, I remember Tom Marshall—know Tom Marshall of Kentucky?—said to me, "Star!"—always calls me Star,—"how in blank, sir, can you remember the REAL names of your clients?"—"Why," says I, "Tom," always called him Tom,—"yesterday I was called to make will—most distinguished family of Virginia—as lawyer and gentleman, you understand: can't mention name. Waited for signature—most distinguished name: Ged, sir, man signed Bloggins,—Peter Bloggins. Fact, demme! 'Mistake,' I said,—'excitement; exaltation of fever. Non compos. Compose yourself, Bob.'—'Star,' he said,—always called me Star,—'for forty-seven years I have been an impostor!'—his very words, sir. 'I am not'—you understand: 'I AM Peter Bloggins!'"
Oakhurst. But, my dear colonel, I—
Starbottle (loftily). Say no more, sir! I accept the—er position. Let us see! The gentleman will, on recognition, probably make a personal attack. You are armed. Ah, no? Umph! On reflection I would not permit him to strike a single blow: I would anticipate it. It will provoke the challenge from him, leaving YOU, sir, the—er—choice of weapons.
Oakhurst. Hush! he is moving! Take your stand here, in this alcove. Remember, as a gentleman, and a man of honor, Col. Starbottle, I trust you not to interfere between the injured man and—justice! (Pushes COL. STARBOTTLE into alcove behind couch, and approaches SANDY.)
Sandy (waking slowly—and incoherently). Hush, Silky! hush! Eh? Oh, hush yourself! (Sings.)
Oh, yer's yer Sandy Morton,
Drink him down!
Eh! Oh! (Half sits up on couch.) Eh! (Looking around him.) Where the devil am I?
Oakhurst (advancing and leaning over SANDY'S couch). In the house of your father, Alexander Morton.
Sandy (recoiling in astonishment). His voice, John Oakhurst! What—ah! (Rises, and rushes towards OAKHURST with uplifted hand.)
Starbottle (gesticulating in whisper). A blow! a single blow would be sufficient.