ak; I have
fallen ... low ... lower than you think. A beginning is so small a
thing! I never dreamed it would come to this ... this hideous last
night.

MARY. Willie, you must tell me, dear. I must have the truth ... the kind
truth ... at once ... in pity.

BRODIE. Crime. I have fallen. Crime.

MARY. Crime?

BRODIE. Don't shrink from me. Miserable dog that I am, selfish hound
that has dragged you to this misery ... you and all that loved him ...
think only of my torments, think only of my penitence, don't shrink from
me.

MARY. I do not care to hear, I do not wish, I do not mind; you are my
brother. What do I care? How can I help you?

BRODIE. Help? help _me_? You would not speak of it, not wish it, if you
knew. My kind good sister, my little playmate, my sweet friend! Was I
ever unkind to you till yesterday? Not openly unkind? You'll say that
when I am gone.

MARY. If you have done wrong, what do I care? If you have failed, does
it change my twenty years of love and worship? Never!

BRODIE. Yet I must make her understand...!

MARY. I am your true sister, dear. I cannot fail, I will never leave
you, I will never blame you. Come! (_Goes to embrace._)

BRODIE (_recoiling_). No, don't touch me, not a finger, not that,
anything but that!

MARY. Willie, Willie!

BRODIE (_taking the bloody dagger from the table_). See, do you
understand that?

MARY. Ah! What, what is it!

BRODIE. Blood. I have killed a man.

MARY. You?...

BRODIE. I am a murderer; I was a thief before. Your brother ... the old
man's only son!

MARY. Walter, Walter, come to me!

BRODIE. Now you see that I must die; now you see that I stand upon the
grave's edge, all my lost life behind me, like a horror to think upon,
like a frenzy, like a dream that is past. And you, you are alone.
Father, brother, they are gone from you; one to heaven, one...!

MARY. Hush, dear, hush! Kneel, pray; it is not too late to repent. Think
of our father, dear; repent. (_She weeps, straining to his bosom._) O
Willie, my darling boy, repent and join us.

SCENE VI

_To these, LAWSON, LESLIE, JEAN_

LAWSON. She kens a', thank the guid Lord!

BRODIE (_to MARY_). I know you forgive me now; I ask no more. That is a
good man. (_To LESLIE._) Will you take her from my hands? (_LESLIE takes
MARY._) Jean, are ye here to see the end?

JEAN. Eh man, can ye no' fly? Could ye no' say that it was me?

BRODIE. No, Jean, this is where it ends. Uncle, this is