Whi. Well, if Tom Cobb is alive this advertisement is quite enough to keep him quiet. The Colonel, having this fact strongly before his eyes, considers that as he has no further interest in Major-General Fitzpatrick’s existence, he does not see why he should be called upon to contribute to his support.
Tom. But it’s ruin! Hang it—it’s starvation! Whipple, you used to be a nice man once—ask him to see me—ask him to speak to me for five minutes! By your old niceness, I implore you!
Whi. I can’t resist that appeal! I’ll ask him, but I’m not sanguine. You see, he’s been in the constant practice of breaking his promise for the last sixty-five years, and it’s degenerated into a habit.
[Exit Whipple.
Tom. And I did that man’s—— (Furious.) But I’ll be even with them all. I don’t care now. I’ve nothing to lose, and I’m a desperate man. My mind’s made up. I’ll write to Docket and Tape, and tell the whole truth! (Sits down to write.) Now, Colonel O’Fipp, tremble, and you, Whipple, tremble, and Matilda. (Throws down pen.) I would spare Matilda! But no, let her tremble too! (Finishes letter; about to ring bell.) Now, now, I shall soon know the worst!
Enter Bulstrode from balcony.
Bul. The Major-General seems moody. On what is he thinking? On the sacking of towns, perchance?
Tom. Bulstrode, you’re a lawyer’s clerk, aren’t you?
Bul. Cursed be my lot, I am!