Gibbs. Yes, for I can give him the name of the man who planned his murder. (Dor. crosses to stage C. and hides behind portière.)
New. And what do you expect to get for this startling piece of news?
Gibbs. Well, say fifty dollars.
New. I will give you a hundred to say nothing about it, on one condition, that you yourself try your hand. That man Dowling was worse than nothing. It was a bad shot; we need better marksmen in our armies.
Gibbs. You are bound to murder him?
New. Murder? no indeed. “All's fair in love and war.” Are we not enemies? Is he not the invader of the sacred soil that was my birthplace? Has he not won the heart of the woman I once loved? That affection is now dead, and hatred has risen from the ashes. She scorned me once, and I shall not rest until her happiness is wrecked.
Gibbs. Then that explains your treachery towards her brother, Roger Carruth. (Dor. leans forward; listening.)
New. What do you know of Roger Carruth? The world looks upon him as a criminal; he is beyond recall and as good as dead.
Gibbs (looking at him steadily). You are sure?
New. Yes, I am confident of that.