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!

Don Jose. Hold your hand, sir! Hold! I allow no one to correct
my menials but myself. Concho, order my carriage!

Concho. It is ready, sir.

Don Jose. Then lead the way to it, for my daughter and her
husband, John Oakhurst.--Good-night, Mr. Morton, I can sympathize
with you; for we have both found a son. I am willing to exchange