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 hell-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 God, the door is open!
SCENE V
Brodie, Mary.
Brodie. Did you open the door?
Mary. I did.
Brodie. You . . . you opened the door?
Mary. I did open it
Brodie. Were you . . . alone?
Mary. I was not. The servant was with me; and the doctor.