Wiggins (jumps up). Matter? Murder, robbery, cold steel! That’s what’s the matter. Go home; stay at home. Your disease is fatal if you stir from home for the next fourteen years, especially (aside) at the dread hour of midnight. (Sinks into chair.)
Harry. But the remedy, your great secret?
Wiggins (aside). There it is, my great secret (jumping up). Go home, I say. Do as I tell you, or your life isn’t worth a lucifer match.
Harry. This is a very queer doctor. Come, Herbert, let’s go. I will call again, when you are more calm and quiet. (Exit Harry and Herbert, L.)
Wiggins. Yes, I know, “at the dread hour of midnight.” What’s to be done? This sanguinary ruffian who is bound to obtain the secret of “The Great Elixir.” I always had an idea that I should be martyred for the knowledge I possess. I wish I was rid of the Great Elixir. Oh, Wigglesworth Wiggins, I wish you had been in the seventh heavens, ere you had made me the seventh son of a seventh son! (Enter Dennis, L., with lunch on a waiter.)
Dennis. Here’s your lunch, sir (places it on table).
Wiggins. Lunch! A pretty time to think of lunch. (Aside.) I must make a confidant of Dennis. Perhaps he can assist me. Dennis!
Dennis. Yes, sir.
Wiggins. What would you do to get hold of such a secret as that of the Great Elixir?
Dennis. Faith! I’d go through fire and water to get a hould of it.