plays [28]
. . .
SMITH. Now Ghost! (WITH LANTERN.)
BRODIE. 'St, Moore!
MOORE. Wot's the row?
BRODIE. Take you the light.
MOORE (TO AINSLIE). Wo' j' yer shakin' at? (KICKS HIM.)
BRODIE (TO AINSLIE). Go you, and see if you're good at keeping
watch. Inside the arch. And if you let a footfall pass, I'll
break your back. (AINSLIE RETIRES.) Steady with the light. (AT
WORK WITH CENTREBIT.) Hand up number four, George. (AT WORK
WITH PICKLOCK.) That has it.
SMITH. Well done our side.
BRODIE. Now the crow bar! (AT WORK.) That's it. Put down the
glim, Badger, and help at the wrench. Your whole weight, men!
Put your backs to it! (WHILE THEY WORK AT THE BAR, BRODIE STANDS
BY, DUSTING HIS HANDS WITH A POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF. AS THE DOOR
OPENS.) VOILA! In with you.
MOORE (ENTERING WITH LIGHT). Mucking fine work too, Deacon!
BRODIE. Take up the irons, George!
SMITH. How about the P(h)antom?
BRODIE. Leave him to me. I'll give him a look. (ENTERS
OFFICE.)
SMITH (FOLLOWING). Houp-la!
SCENE III
AINSLIE; afterwards BRODIE; afterwards HUNT and OFFICERS
AINSLIE. Ca' ye that mainners? Ye're grand gentry by your way
o't! Eh sirs, my hench! Ay, that was the Badger. Man, but
ye'll look bonnie hangin'! (A FAINT WHISTLE.) Lord's sake,
what's thon? Ay, it'll be Hunt an' his lads. (WHISTLE
REPEATED.) Losh me, what gars him whustle, whustle? Does he
think me deaf? (GOES UP. BRODIE ENTERS FROM OFFICE, STANDS AN
INSTANT, AND SEES HIM MAKING A SIGNAL THROUGH THE ARCH.)
BRODIE. Rats! Rats! (HIDES L. AMONG LUMBER. ENTER NOISELESSLY
THROUGH ARCH HUNT AND OFFICERS.)
HUNT. Birds caught?
AINSLIE. They're a' ben the house, mister.
HUNT. All three?
AINSLIE. The hale set, mister.
BRODIE. Liar!
HUNT. Mum, lads, and follow me. (EXIT, WITH HIS MEN, INTO
OFFICE. BRODIE SEEN WITH DAGGER.)
HUNT. In the King's name! }
MOORE. Muck! } (WITHIN.)
SMITH. Go it, Badger. }
HUNT. Take 'em alive, boys! }
AINSLIE. Eh, but that's awful. (THE DEACON LEAPS OUT, AND STABS
HIM. HE FALLS WITHOUT A CRY.)
BRODIE. Saved! (HE GOES OUT BY THE ARCH.)
SCENE IV
HUNT and OFFICERS; with SMITH and MOORE handcuffed. Signs of a
severe struggle
HUNT (ENTERING). Bring 'em along, lads! (LOOKING AT PRISONERS
WITH LANTERN.) Pleased to see you again, Badger. And you too,
George. But I'd rather have seen your principal. Where's he got
to?
MOORE. To hell, I hope.
HUNT. Always the same pretty flow of language, I see, Hump.
(LOOKING AT BURGLARY WITH LANTERN.) A very tidy piece of work,
Dook; very tidy! Much too good for you. Smacks of a fine
tradesman. It WAS the Deacon, I suppose?
SMITH. You ought to know G. S. better by this time, Jerry.
HUNT. All right, your Grace: we'll talk it over with the Deacon
himself. Where's the jackal? Here, you, Ainslie! Where are
you? By jingo, I thought as much. Stabbed to the heart and dead
as a herring!
SMITH. Bravo!
HUNT. More of the Deacon's work, I guess? Does him credit too,
don't it, Badger?
MOORE. Muck. Was that the thundering cove that peached?
HUNT. That was the thundering cove.
MOORE. And is he corpsed?
HUNT. I should just about reckon he was.
MOORE. Then, damme, I don't mind swinging!
HUNT. We'll talk about that presently. M'Intyre and Stewart,
you get a stretcher, and take that rubbish to the office. Pick
it up; it's only a dead informer. Hand these two gentlemen over
to Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, with Mr. Jerry Hunt's compliments.
Johnstone and Syme, you come along with me. I'll bring the
Deacon round myself.
ACT-DROP
ACT V.
TABLEAU VIII. THE OPEN DOOR
The Stage represents the Deacon's room, as in Tableau I. Fire
light. Stage dark. A pause. Then knocking at the door, C.
Cries without of 'WILLIE!' 'MR. BRODIE!' The door is burst open.
SCENE I
DOCTOR, MARY, a MAIDSERVANT with lights.
DOCTOR. The apartment is unoccupied.
MARY. Dead, and
SMITH. Now Ghost! (WITH LANTERN.)
BRODIE. 'St, Moore!
MOORE. Wot's the row?
BRODIE. Take you the light.
MOORE (TO AINSLIE). Wo' j' yer shakin' at? (KICKS HIM.)
BRODIE (TO AINSLIE). Go you, and see if you're good at keeping
watch. Inside the arch. And if you let a footfall pass, I'll
break your back. (AINSLIE RETIRES.) Steady with the light. (AT
WORK WITH CENTREBIT.) Hand up number four, George. (AT WORK
WITH PICKLOCK.) That has it.
SMITH. Well done our side.
BRODIE. Now the crow bar! (AT WORK.) That's it. Put down the
glim, Badger, and help at the wrench. Your whole weight, men!
Put your backs to it! (WHILE THEY WORK AT THE BAR, BRODIE STANDS
BY, DUSTING HIS HANDS WITH A POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF. AS THE DOOR
OPENS.) VOILA! In with you.
MOORE (ENTERING WITH LIGHT). Mucking fine work too, Deacon!
BRODIE. Take up the irons, George!
SMITH. How about the P(h)antom?
BRODIE. Leave him to me. I'll give him a look. (ENTERS
OFFICE.)
SMITH (FOLLOWING). Houp-la!
SCENE III
AINSLIE; afterwards BRODIE; afterwards HUNT and OFFICERS
AINSLIE. Ca' ye that mainners? Ye're grand gentry by your way
o't! Eh sirs, my hench! Ay, that was the Badger. Man, but
ye'll look bonnie hangin'! (A FAINT WHISTLE.) Lord's sake,
what's thon? Ay, it'll be Hunt an' his lads. (WHISTLE
REPEATED.) Losh me, what gars him whustle, whustle? Does he
think me deaf? (GOES UP. BRODIE ENTERS FROM OFFICE, STANDS AN
INSTANT, AND SEES HIM MAKING A SIGNAL THROUGH THE ARCH.)
BRODIE. Rats! Rats! (HIDES L. AMONG LUMBER. ENTER NOISELESSLY
THROUGH ARCH HUNT AND OFFICERS.)
HUNT. Birds caught?
AINSLIE. They're a' ben the house, mister.
HUNT. All three?
AINSLIE. The hale set, mister.
BRODIE. Liar!
HUNT. Mum, lads, and follow me. (EXIT, WITH HIS MEN, INTO
OFFICE. BRODIE SEEN WITH DAGGER.)
HUNT. In the King's name! }
MOORE. Muck! } (WITHIN.)
SMITH. Go it, Badger. }
HUNT. Take 'em alive, boys! }
AINSLIE. Eh, but that's awful. (THE DEACON LEAPS OUT, AND STABS
HIM. HE FALLS WITHOUT A CRY.)
BRODIE. Saved! (HE GOES OUT BY THE ARCH.)
SCENE IV
HUNT and OFFICERS; with SMITH and MOORE handcuffed. Signs of a
severe struggle
HUNT (ENTERING). Bring 'em along, lads! (LOOKING AT PRISONERS
WITH LANTERN.) Pleased to see you again, Badger. And you too,
George. But I'd rather have seen your principal. Where's he got
to?
MOORE. To hell, I hope.
HUNT. Always the same pretty flow of language, I see, Hump.
(LOOKING AT BURGLARY WITH LANTERN.) A very tidy piece of work,
Dook; very tidy! Much too good for you. Smacks of a fine
tradesman. It WAS the Deacon, I suppose?
SMITH. You ought to know G. S. better by this time, Jerry.
HUNT. All right, your Grace: we'll talk it over with the Deacon
himself. Where's the jackal? Here, you, Ainslie! Where are
you? By jingo, I thought as much. Stabbed to the heart and dead
as a herring!
SMITH. Bravo!
HUNT. More of the Deacon's work, I guess? Does him credit too,
don't it, Badger?
MOORE. Muck. Was that the thundering cove that peached?
HUNT. That was the thundering cove.
MOORE. And is he corpsed?
HUNT. I should just about reckon he was.
MOORE. Then, damme, I don't mind swinging!
HUNT. We'll talk about that presently. M'Intyre and Stewart,
you get a stretcher, and take that rubbish to the office. Pick
it up; it's only a dead informer. Hand these two gentlemen over
to Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, with Mr. Jerry Hunt's compliments.
Johnstone and Syme, you come along with me. I'll bring the
Deacon round myself.
ACT-DROP
ACT V.
TABLEAU VIII. THE OPEN DOOR
The Stage represents the Deacon's room, as in Tableau I. Fire
light. Stage dark. A pause. Then knocking at the door, C.
Cries without of 'WILLIE!' 'MR. BRODIE!' The door is burst open.
SCENE I
DOCTOR, MARY, a MAIDSERVANT with lights.
DOCTOR. The apartment is unoccupied.
MARY. Dead, and