Starbottle. Permit me to—explain. Your conduct, Mr. Morton, reminds me of sing'lar incident in '47—
Old Morton. Silence!
Oakhurst. One word, Mr. Morton! Shamed and disgraced as I am, I leave this roof more gladly than I entered it. How I came here, you best know. How I yielded madly to the temptation, the promise of a better life; how I fell, through the hope of reformation,—no one should know better than you, sir, the reformer. I do not ask your pardon. You know that I did my duty to you as your presumed son. Your real son will bear witness, that, from the hour I knew of his existence, I did my duty equally to him. Col. Starbottle has all the legal transfers and papers necessary to make the restoration of your son—the integrity of your business name—complete. I take nothing out of this life that I did not bring in it,—except my self-respect! I go—as I came—alone!
Jovita (rushing towards him). No! no! You shall take ME! I have wronged you, Jack, cruelly; I have doubted you; but you shall not go alone. I care not for this contract! You are more to me, by your own right, Jack, than by any kinship with such as these!
Oakhurst (raising her gently). I thank you, darling. But it is too late now. To be more worthy of you, to win YOU, I waived the title I had to you in my own manhood, to borrow another's more legal claim. I who would not win you as a gambler, cannot make you now the wife of a convicted impostor. No! Hear me, darling! do not make my disgrace greater than it is. In the years to come, Jovita, think of me as one who loved you well enough to go through shame to win you, but too well to ask you to share with him that shame. Farewell, darling, farewell! (Releases himself from JOVITA'S arms, who falls beside him.)
Concho (rubbing his hands, and standing before him). Oho! Mr. John Oakhurst—eh—was it for this, eh—you leaped the garden wall, eh? was it for this you struck me down, eh? You are not wise, eh? You should have run away with the Dona when you could—ah, ah, impostor!
Sandy (leaping to his feet). Jack, you shall not go! I will go with you!
Oakhurst. No! Your place is there. (Pointing to old MORTON, whose head has sunk drunkenly on his breast.) Heed not this man; his tongue carries only the borrowed lash of his master.
Concho. Eh! you are bold now—bold; but I said I would have revenge—ah, revenge!
Sandy (rushing toward him). Coward!