BRODIE. Liar!

HUNT. Mum, lads, and follow me. (_Exit, with his men, into office.
BRODIE seen with dagger._)

HUNT (_within_). In the King's name!

MOORE (_within_). Muck!

SMITH (_within_). Go it, Badger.

HUNT (_within_). Take 'em alive, boys!

AINSLIE. Eh, but that's awfu'. (_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.

END OF THE FOURTH ACT

ACT V

TABLEAU VIII

THE OPEN DOOR

_The Stage represents the Deacon's room, as in Tableau I. Firelight.
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 he not here!

DOCTOR. The bed has not been slept in. The counterpane is not turned
down.

MARY. It is not true; it cannot be true.

DOCTOR. My dear young lady, you must have misunderstood your brother