our _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.

BRODIE. O ... the servant ... and the doctor. Very true. Then it's all
over the town by now. The servant and the doctor. The doctor? What
doctor? Why the doctor?

MARY. My father is dead. O Will, where have you been?

BRODIE. Your father is dead. O yes! He's dead, is he? Dead. Quite right.
Quite right.... How did you open the door? It's strange. I bolted it.

MARY. We could not help it, Will, now could we? The doctor forced it. He
had to, had he not?

BRODIE. The doctor forced it? The doctor? Was he here? He forced it? He?

MARY. We did it for the best; it was I who did it ... I, your own
sister. And O Will, my Willie, where have you been? You have not been in
any harm, any danger?

BRODIE. Danger? O, my young lady, you have taken care of that. It's not
danger now, it's death. Death? Ah! Death! Death! Death! (_Clutching the
table. Then recovering as from a dream._) Death? Did you say my father
was dead? My father? O my God, my poor old father! Is he dead, Mary?
Have I lost him? is he gone? O, Mary dear, and to think of where his son
was!

MARY. Dearest, he is in heaven.

BRODIE. Did he suffer?

MARY. He died like a child. Your name ... it was his last.

BRODIE. My name? Mine? O Mary, if he had known! He knows now. He knows;
he sees us now ... sees me! Ay, and sees you left--how lonely!

MARY. Not so, dear; not while you live. Wherever you are, I shall not be
alone, so you live.

BRODIE. While I live? I? The old house is ruined, and the old master
dead, and I!... O Mary, try and believe I did not mean that it should
come to this; try and believe that I was only weak at first. At first?
And now! The good old man dead, the kind sister ruined, the innocent boy
fallen, fallen.... You will be quite alone; all your old friends, all
the old faces, gone into darkness. The night (_with a gesture_) ... it
waits for me. You will be quite alone.

MARY. The night!

BRODIE. Mary, you must hear. How am I to tell her, and the old man just
dead! Mary, I was the boy you knew; I loved pleasure, I was we