What are you? What are you . . . to him?
JEAN. I"ll be the best frien" "at ever he had; for, O dear leddie, I wad gie my bluid to help him.
MARY. And the . . . the child?
JEAN. The bairn?
MARY. Nothing! O nothing! I am in trouble, and I know not what I say.
And I cannot help you; I cannot help you if I would. He is not here; and I believed he was; and ill . . . ill; and he is not-he is . . . O, I think I shall lose my mind!
JEAN. Ay, it"s unco business.
MARY. His father is dead within there . . . dead, I tell you . . . dead!
JEAN. It"s mebbe just as weel.
MARY. Well? Well? Has it come to this? O Walter, Walter! come back to me, or I shall die. (LESLIE _enters_, _C._)
LESLIE. Mary, Mary! I hoped to have spared you this. (_To_ JEAN.) What-you? Is he not here?
JEAN. I"m aye waitin" on him.
LESLIE. What has become of him? Is he mad? Where is he?
JEAN. The Lord A"michty kens, Mr. Leslie. But I maun find him; I maun find him.
SCENE III
MARY, LESLIE
MARY. O Walter, Walter! What does it mean?
LESLIE. You have been a brave girl all your life, Mary; you must lean on me . . . you must trust in me . . . and be a brave girl till the end.
MARY. Who is she? What does she want with _him_? And he . . . where is he? Do you know that my father is dead, and the Deacon not here? Where has he gone? He may be dead, too. Father, brother . . . O G.o.d, it is more than I can bear!
LESLIE. Mary, my dear, dear girl . . . when will you be my wife?
MARY. O, do not speak . . . not speak . . . of it to-night. Not to-night! O not to-night!
LESLIE. I know, I know dear heart! And do you think that I whom you have chosen, I whose whole life is in your love-do you think that I would press you now if there were not good cause?
MARY. Good cause! Something has happened. Something has happened . . .
to him! Walter . . . ! Is he . . . dead?
LESLIE. There are worse things in the world than death. There is O . . .
Mary, he is your brother!
MARY. What? Dishonour! . . . The Deacon! . . . My G.o.d!
LESLIE. My wife, my wife!
MARY. No, no! Keep away from me. Don"t touch me. I"m not fit . . .
not fit to be near you. What has he done? I am his sister. Tell me the worst. Tell me the worst at once.
LESLIE. That, if G.o.d wills, dear, that you shall never know. Whatever it be, think that I knew it all, and only loved you better; think that your true husband is with you, and you are not to bear it alone.
MARY. My husband? . . . Never.
LESLIE. Mary . . . !
MARY. You forget, you forget what I am. I am his sister. I owe him a lifetime of happiness and love; I owe him even you. And whatever his fault, however ruinous his disgrace, he is my brother-my own brother-and my place is still with him.
LESLIE. Your place is with me-is with your husband. With me, with me; and for his sake most of all. What can you do for him alone? how can you help him alone? It wrings my heart to think how little. But together is different. Together . . . I join my strength, my will, my courage to your own, and together we may save him.
MARY. All that is over. Once I was blessed among women. I was my father"s daughter, my brother loved me, I lived to be your wife. Now . . . !
My father is dead, my brother is shamed; and you . . . O how could I face the world, how could I endure myself, if I preferred my happiness to your honour?
LESLIE. What is my honour but your happiness? In what else does it consist? Is it in denying me my heart? is it in visiting another"s sin upon the innocent? Could I do that, and be my mother"s son? Could I do that, and bear my father"s name? Could I do that, and have ever been found worthy of you?
MARY. It is my duty . . . my duty. Why will you make it so hard for me?
So hard, Walter so hard!
LESLIE. Do I pursue you only for your good fortune, your beauty, the credit of your friends, your family"s good name? That were not love, and I love you. I love you, dearest, I love you. Friend, father, brother, husband . . . I must be all these to you. I am a man who can love well.
MARY. Silence . . . in pity! I cannot . . . O, I cannot bear it.
LESLIE. And say it was I who had fallen. Say I had played my neck and lost it . . . that I were pushed by the law to the last limits of ignominy and despair. Whose love would sanctify my jail to me? whose pity would shine upon me in the dock? whose prayers would accompany me to the gallows? Whose but yours? Yours! . . . And you would entreat me-me!-to do what you shrink from even in thought, what you would die ere you attempted in deed!
MARY. Walter . . . on my knees . . . no more, no more!
LESLIE. My wife! my wife! Here on my heart! It is I that must kneel . . .
I that must kneel to you.
MARY. Dearest! . . . Husband! You forgive him? O, you forgive him?
LESLIE. He is my brother now. Let me take you to our father. Come.
SCENE IV
_After a pause_, BRODIE, _through the window_
BRODIE. Saved! And the alibi! Man, but you"ve been near it this time-near the rope, near the rope. Ah boy, it was your neck, your neck you fought for. They were closing h.e.l.l-doors upon me, swift as the wind, when I slipped through and shot for heaven! Saved! The dog that sold me, I settled him; and the other dogs are staunch. Man, but your alibi will stand! Is the window fast? The neighbours must not see the Deacon, the poor, sick Deacon, up and stirring at this time o" night. Ay, the good old room in the good, cozy old house . . . and the rat a dead rat, and all saved. (_He lights the candles_.) Your hand shakes, sir? Fie!
And you saved, and you snug and sick in your bed, and it but a dead rat after all? (_He takes off his hanger and lays it on the table_.) Ay, it was a near touch. Will it come to the dock? If it does! You"ve a tongue, and you"ve a head, and you"ve an alibi; and your alibi will stand. (_He takes off his coat_, _takes out the dagger_, _and with a gesture of striking_) Home! He fell without a sob. "He breaketh them against the bosses of his buckler!" (_Lays the dagger on the table_.) Your alibi . . . ah Deacon, that"s your life! . . . your alibi, your alibi. (_He takes up a candle and turns towards the door_.) O! . . .
Open, open, open! judgment of G.o.d, the door is open!