Ainslie (grovelling). It wasna me, it wasna me. It’s bad companions; I’ve been lost wi’ bad companions an’ the drink. An’ O mister, ye’ll be a kind gentleman to a puir lad, and me sae weak, and fair rotten wi’ the drink an’ that. Ye’ve a bonnie kind heart, my dear, dear gentleman; ye wadna hang sitchan a thing as me. I’m no’ fit to hang. They ca’ me the Cannleworm! An’ I’ll dae somethin’ for ye, wulln’t I? An’ ye’ll can hang the ithers?
Hunt. I thought I hadn’t mistook my man. Now you look here, Andrew Ainslie, you’re a bad lot. I’ve evidence to hang you fifty times over. But the Deacon is my mark. Will you peach, or won’t you? You blow the gaff, and I’ll pull you through. You don’t, and I’ll scrag you as sure as my name’s Jerry Hunt.
Ainslie. I’ll dae onything. It’s the hanging fleys me. I’ll dae onything, onything no’ to hang.
Hunt. Don’t lie crawling there, but get up and answer me like a man. Ain’t this Deacon Brodie the fine workman that’s been doing all these tip-topping burglaries?
Ainslie. It’s him, mister; it’s him. That’s the man. Ye’re in the very bit. Deacon Brodie. I’ll can tak’ ye to his very door.
Hunt. How do you know?
Ainslie. I gi’ed him a han’ wi’ them a’. It was him an’ Badger Moore and Geordie Smith; an’ they gart me gang wi’ them whether or no: I’m that weak, and whiles I’m donner’d wi’ the drink. But I ken a’ an’ I’ll tell a’. And O kind gentleman, you’ll speak to their lordships for me, and I’ll no be hangit ... I’ll no be hangit, wull I?
Hunt. But you shared, didn’t you? I wonder what share they thought you worth. How much did you get for last night’s performance down at Mother Clarke’s?
Ainslie. Just five pund, mister. Five pund. As sure’s deith it wadna be a penny mair. No’ but I askit mair: I did that; I’ll no’ deny it, mister. But Badger kickit me, an’ Geordie, he said a bad sweir, an’ made he’d cut the liver out o’ me, an’ catch fish wi’t. It’s been that way frae the first: an aith an’ a bawbee was aye guid eneuch for puir Andra.
Hunt. Well, and why did they do it? I saw Jemmy dance a hornpipe on the table, and booze the company all round, when the Deacon was gone. What made you cross the fight, and play booty with your own man?
Ainslie. Just to make him rob the Excise, mister. They’re wicked, wicked men.
Hunt. And is he right for it?
Ainslie. Ay is he.
Hunt. By Jingo! When’s it for?
Ainslie. Dear, kind gentleman, I dinna rightly ken: the Deacon’s that sair angered wi’ me. I’m to get my orders frae Geordie the nicht.
Hunt. O, you’re to get your orders from Geordie, are you? Now look here, Ainslie. You know me. I’m Hunt the Runner: I put Jemmy Rivers in the jug this morning; I’ve got you this evening. I mean to wind up with the Deacon. You understand? All right. Then just you listen. I’m going to take these here bracelets off, and send you home to that celebrated bed of yours. Only, as soon as you’ve seen the Dook you come straight round to me at Mr. Procurator-Fiscal’s, and let me know the Dook’s views. One word, mind, and ... cl’k! It’s a bargain?
Ainslie.. Never you fear that. I’ll tak’ my bannet an’ come straucht to ye. Eh God, I’m glad it’s nae mair nor that to start wi’. An’ may the Lord bless ye, dear, kind gentleman, for your kindness! May the Lord bless ye!
Hunt. You pad the hoof.
Ainslie (going out). An’ so I wull, wulln’t I not? An’ bless, bless ye while there’s breath in my body, wulln’t I not?
Hunt (solus). You’re a nice young man, Andrew Ainslie. Jemmy Rivers and the Deacon in two days! By Jingo! (He dances an instant gravely, whistling to himself.) Jerry, that ‘ere little two hundred of ours is as safe as the bank.
TABLEAU VI
Unmasked
The Stage represents a room in Leslie’s house. A practicable window, C., through which a band of strong moonlight falls into the room. Near the window a strong-box. A practicable door in wing, L. Candlelight
SCENE I
Leslie, Lawson, Mary, seated. Brodie at back, walking between the windows and the strong-box
Lawson. Weel, weel, weel, weel, nae doubt.
Leslie. Mr. Lawson, I am perfectly satisfied with Brodie’s word; I will wait gladly.
Lawson. I have nothing to say against that.
Brodie (behind Lawson). Nor for it.
Lawson. For it? for it, William? Ye’re perfectly richt there. (To Leslie.) Just you do what William tells you; ye canna do better than that.
Mary. Dear uncle, I see you are vexed; but Will and I are perfectly agreed on the best course. Walter and I are young. O, we can wait; we can trust each other.
Brodie (from behind). Leslie, do you think it safe to keep this strong-box in your room?
Leslie. It does not trouble me.
Brodie. I would not. ‘Tis close to the window.
Leslie. It’s on the right side of it.
Brodie. I give you my advice: I would not.
Lawson. He may be right there too, Mr. Leslie.
Brodie. I give him fair warning: it’s not safe.
Leslie. I have a different treasure to concern myself about; if all goes right with that I shall be well contented.
Mary. Walter!
Lawson. Ay, bairns, ye speak for your age.
Leslie. Surely, sir, for every age: the ties of blood, of love, of friendship, these are life’s essence.
Mary. And for no one is it truer than my uncle. If he live to be a thousand, he will still be young in heart, full of love, full of trust.
Lawson. Ah, lassie, it’s a wicked world.
Mary. Yes, you are out of sorts to-day; we know that.
Leslie. Admitted that you know more of life, sir; admitted (if you please) that the world is wicked; yet you do not lose trust in those you love.
Lawson. Weel ... ye get gliffs, ye ken.
Leslie. I suppose so. We can all be shaken for a time; but not, I think, in our friends. We are not deceived in them; in the few that we admit into our hearts.
Mary. Never in these.
Leslie. We know these (to Brodie), and we think the world of them.
Brodie (at back). We are more acquainted with each other’s tailors, believe me. You, Leslie, are a very pleasant creature. My uncle Lawson is the Procurator-Fiscal. I — what am I? I am the Deacon of the Wrights; my ruffles are generally clean; and you think the world of me. Bravo!
Leslie. Ay, and I think the world of you.
Brodie (at back, pointing to Lawson). Ask him.
Lawson. Hoot-toot. A wheen nonsense: an honest man’s an honest man, and a randy thief’s a randy thief, and neither mair nor less. Mary, my lamb, it’s time you were hame, and had your beauty sleep.
Mary. Do you not come with us?
Lawson. I gang the ither gate, my lamb. (Leslie helps Mary on with her cloak, and they say farewell at back. Brodie, for the first time, comes front with Lawson.) Sae ye’ve consented?
Brodie. As you see.
Lawson. Ye’ll can pay it back?
Brodie. I will.
Lawson. And how? That’s what I’m wonderin’ to mysel’.
Brodie. Ay, God knows that.
Mary. Come, Will.
SCENE II
Leslie, Lawson (wrapping up)
Leslie. I wonder what ails Brodie?
Lawson. How should I ken? What should I ken that ails him?
Leslie. He seemed angry even with you.
Lawson (impatient). Hoot awa’!
Leslie. Of course, I know. But you see, on the very day when our engagement is announced, even the best of men may be susceptible. You yourself seem not quite pleased.
Lawson (with great irritation). I’m perfectly pleased. I’m perfectly delighted. If I werena an auld man, I’d be just beside mysel’ wi’ happiness.
Leslie. Well, I only fancied ...
Lawson. Ye had nae possible excuse to fancy. Fancy? Perfect trash and nonsense. Look at yersel’. Ye look like a ghaist, ye’r
e white-like, ye’re black aboot the een; and do you find me deavin’ ye wi’ fancies? Or William Brodie either? I’ll say that for him.
Leslie. ‘Tis not sorrow that alters my complexion; I’ve something else on hand. Come, I’ll tell you, under seal. I’ve not been in bed till daylight for a week.
Lawson. Weel, there’s nae sense in the like o’ that.
Leslie. Gad, but there is, though. Why, Procurator, this is town’s business; this is a municipal affair; I’m a public character. Why? Ah, here’s a nut for the Crown Prosecutor! I’m a bit of a party to a robbery.
Lawson. Guid guide us, man, what d’ye mean?
Leslie. You shall hear. A week ago to-night I was passing through this very room without a candle on my way to bed, when ... what should I see but a masked man fumbling at that window! How he did the Lord knows. I suspect, Procurator, it was not the first he’d tried ... for he opened it as handily as his own front door.
Lawson. Preserve me! Another of thae robberies!
Leslie. That’s it. And, of course, I tried to seize him. But the rascal was too quick. He was down and away in an instant. You never saw a thing so daring and adroit.
Lawson. Is that a’? Ye’re a bauld lad, I’ll say that for ye. I’m glad it wasna waur.
Leslie. Yes, that’s all plain sailing. But here’s the hitch. Why didn’t I tell the Procurator-Fiscal? You never thought of that.
Lawson. No, man. Why?
Leslie. Aha! There’s the riddle. Will you guess? No?... I thought I knew the man.
Lawson. What d’ye say?
Leslie. I thought I knew him.
Lawson. Wha was’t?
Leslie. Ah, there you go beyond me. That I cannot tell.
Lawson. As God sees ye, laddie, are ye speaking truth?
Leslie. Well ... of course!
Lawson. The haill truth?
Leslie. All of it. Why not?
Lawson. Man, I’d a kind o’ gliff.
Leslie. Why, what were you afraid of? Had you a suspicion?
Lawson. Me? Me a suspicion? Ye’re daft, sir; and me the Crown offeecial!... Eh, man, I’m a’ shakin’ ... And sae ye thocht ye kennt him?
Leslie. I did that. And what’s more, I’ve sat every night in case of his return. I promise you, Procurator, he shall not slip me twice. Meanwhile, I’m worried and put out. You understand how such a fancy will upset a man. I’m uneasy with my friends and on bad terms with my own conscience. I keep watching, spying, comparing, putting two and two together, and hunting for resemblances until my head goes round. It’s like a puzzle in a dream. Only yesterday I thought I had him. And who d’you think it was?
Lawson. Wha? Wha was’t? Speak, Mr. Leslie, speak. I’m an auld man: dinna forget that.
Leslie. I name no names. It would be unjust to him; and, upon my word, it was so silly it would be unfair to me. However, here I sit, night after night. I mean him to come back; come back he shall; and I’ll tell you who he was next morning.
Lawson. Let sleeping dogs lie, Mr. Leslie; ye dinna ken what ye micht see. And then, leave him alane, he’ll come nae mair. And sitting up a’ nicht ... it’s a factum imprestabile, as we say: a thing impossible to man. Gang ye to your bed, like a guid laddie, and sleep lang and soundly, and bonnie, bonnie dreams to ye! (Without.) Let sleeping dogs lie, and gang ye to your bed.
SCENE III
Leslie (calling). In good time, never fear! (He carefully bolts and chains the door.) The old gentleman seems upset. What for, I wonder? Has he had a masked visitor? Why not? It’s the fashion. Out with the lights. (Blows out the candles. The stage is only lighted by the moon through the window.) He is sure to come one night or other. He must come. Right or wrong, I feel it in the air. Man, but I know you, I know you somewhere. That trick of the shoulders, the hang of the clothes — whose are they? Where have I seen them? And then, that single look of the eye, that one glance about the room as the window opened ... it is almost friendly; I have caught it over the glass’s rim! If it should be ... his? No, his it is not.
Watchman (without). Past ten o’clock, and a fine moonlight night.
Another (further away). Past ten o’clock, and all’s well.
Leslie. Past ten? Ah, there’s a long night before you and me, watchmen. Heavens, what a trade! But it will be something to laugh over with Mary and ... with him! Damn it, the delusion is too strong for me. It’s a thing to be ashamed of. “We Brodies”: how she says it! “We Brodies and our Deacon”: what a pride she takes in it, and how good it sounds to me! “Deacon of his craft, sir, Deacon of the ...” (Brodie, masked, appears without at the window, which he proceeds to force.) Ha! I knew he’d come. I was sure of it. (He crouches near and nearer to the window, keeping in the shade.) And I know you too. I swear I know you.
SCENE IV
Brodie, Leslie
Brodie enters by the window with assurance and ease, closes it silently and proceeds to traverse the room. As he moves, Leslie leaps upon and grapples him.
Leslie. Take off that mask!
Brodie. Hands off!
Leslie. Take off that mask!
Brodie. Leave go, by God, leave go!
Leslie. Take it off!
Brodie (overpowered). Leslie....
Leslie. Ah! you know me! (Succeeds in tearing off the mask.) Brodie!
Brodie (in the moonlight). Brodie.
Leslie. You ... you, Brodie, you!
Brodie. Brodie, sir, Brodie, as you see.
Leslie. What does it mean? What does it mean? My God! Were you here before? Is this the second time? Are you a thief, man? are you a thief? Speak, speak, or I’ll kill you.
Brodie. I am a thief.
Leslie. And my friend, my own friend, and ... Mary, Mary!... Deacon, Deacon, for God’s sake, no!
Brodie. God help me!
Leslie. “We Brodies! We Brodies!”
Brodie. Leslie — —
Leslie. Stand off! Don’t touch me! You’re a thief!
Brodie. Leslie, Leslie — —
Leslie. A thief’s sister! Why are you here? why are you here? Tell me! Why do you not speak? Man, I know you of old. Are you Brodie, and have nothing to say?
Brodie. To say? Not much — God help me! — and commonplace, commonplace like sin. I was honest once; I made a false step; I couldn’t retrace it; and ... that is all.
Leslie. You have forgot the bad companions!
Brodie. I did forget them. They were there.
Leslie. Commonplace! Commonplace! Do you speak to me, do you reason with me, do you make excuses? You — a man found out, shamed, a liar, a thief — a man that’s killed me, killed this heart in my body; and you speak! What am I to do? I hold your life in my hand; have you thought of that? What am I to do?
Brodie. Do what you please; you have me trapped. (Jean Watt is heard singing without two bars of “Wanderin’ Willie,” by way of signal.)
Leslie. What is that?
Brodie. A signal.
Leslie. What does it mean?
Brodie. Danger to me: there is some one coming.
Leslie. Danger to you?
Brodie. Some one is coming. What are you going to do with me? (A knock at the door.)
Leslie (after a pause). Sit down. (Knocking.)
Brodie. What are you going to do with me?
Leslie. Sit down. (Brodie sits in darkest part of stage. Leslie opens door and admits Lawson. Door open till end of Act.)
SCENE V
Brodie, Lawson, Leslie
Lawson. This is an unco’ time to come to your door; but eh, laddie, I couldna bear to think o’ ye sittin’ yer lane in the dark.
Leslie. It was very good of you.
Lawson. I’m no’ very fond of playing hidee in the dark mysel’: and noo that I’m here — —
Leslie. I will give you a light. (He lights the candles. Lights up.)
Lawson. God A’michty! William Brodie!
Leslie. Yes, Brodie was good enough to watch with me.
Lawson. But he gaed awa’ ... I
dinna see ... an’ Lord be guid to us, the window’s open!
Leslie. A trap we laid for them: a device of Brodie’s.
Brodie (to Lawson). Set a thief to catch a thief. (Passing to Leslie, aside.) Walter Leslie, God will reward. (Jean signals again.)
Lawson. I dinna like that singin’ at siccan a time o’ the nicht.
Brodie. I must go.
Lawson. Not one foot o’ ye. I’m ower glad to find ye in guid hands. Ay, ye dinna ken how glad.
Brodie (aside to Leslie). Get me out of this. There’s a man there will stick at nothing.
Leslie. Mr. Lawson, Brodie has done his shift. Why should we keep him? (Jean appears at the door, and signs to Brodie.)
Lawson. Hoots! this is my trade. That’s a bit o’ “Wanderin’ Willie.” I’ve had it before me in precognitions; that same stave has been used for a signal by some o’ the very warst o’ them.
Brodie (aside to Leslie). Get me out of this. I’ll never forget to-night. (Jean at door again.)
Leslie. Well, good-night, Brodie. When shall we meet again?
Lawson. Not one foot o’ him. (Jean at door.) I tell you, Mr. Leslie — —
SCENE VI
To these, Jean
Jean (from the door). Wullie, Wullie!
Lawson. Guid guide us, Mrs. Watt! A dacent wumman like yoursel’! Whatten a time o’ nicht is this to come to folks’ doors?
Jean (to Brodie). Hawks, Wullie, hawks!
Brodie. I suppose you know what you’ve done, Jean?
Jean. I had to come, Wullie; he wadna wait another minit. He wad have come himsel’.
Brodie. This is my mistress.
Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated) Page 402