The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 15

Lawson. Ah, lassie, it’s a wicked world.

Mary. Yes, you are out of sorts to-day; we know that.

Leslie. Admitted that you know more of life, sir; admitted (if you please) that the world is wicked; yet you do not lose trust in those you love.

Lawson. Weel … ye get gliffs, ye ken.

Leslie. I suppose so. We can all be shaken for a time; but not, I think, in our friends. We are not deceived in them; in the few that we admit into our hearts.

Mary. Never in these.

Leslie. We know these (to Brodie), and we think the world of them.

Brodie (at back). We are more acquainted with each other’s tailors, believe me. You, Leslie, are a very pleasant creature. My uncle Lawson is the Procurator-Fiscal. I – what am I? I am the Deacon of the Wrights; my ruffles are generally clean; and you think the world of me. Bravo!

Leslie. Ay, and I think the world of you.

Brodie (at back, pointing to Lawson). Ask him.

Lawson. Hoot-toot. A wheen nonsense: an honest man’s an honest man, and a randy thief’s a randy thief, and neither mair nor less. Mary, my lamb, it’s time you were hame, and had your beauty sleep.

Mary. Do you not come with us?

Lawson. I gang the ither gate, my lamb. (Leslie helps Mary on with her cloak, and they say farewell at back. Brodie, for the first time, comes front with Lawson.) Sae ye’ve consented?

Brodie. As you see.

Lawson. Ye’ll can pay it back?

Brodie. I will.

Lawson. And how? That’s what I’m wonderin’ to mysel’.

Brodie. Ay, God knows that.

Mary. Come, Will.

SCENE II

Leslie, Lawson (wrapping up)

Leslie. I wonder what ails Brodie?

Lawson. How should I ken? What should I ken that ails him?

Leslie. He seemed angry even with you.

Lawson (impatient). Hoot awa’!

Leslie. Of course, I know. But you see, on the very day when our engagement is announced, even the best of men may be susceptible. You yourself seem not quite pleased.

Lawson (with great irritation). I’m perfectly pleased. I’m perfectly delighted. If I werena an auld man, I’d be just beside mysel’ wi’ happiness.

Leslie. Well, I only fancied …

Lawson. Ye had nae possible excuse to fancy. Fancy? Perfect trash and nonsense. Look at yersel’. Ye look like a ghaist, ye’re white-like, ye’re black aboot the een; and do you find me deavin’ ye wi’ fancies? Or William Brodie either? I’ll say that for him.

Leslie. ’Tis not sorrow that alters my complexion; I’ve something else on hand. Come, I’ll tell you, under seal. I’ve not been in bed till daylight for a week.

Lawson. Weel, there’s nae sense in the like o’ that.

Leslie. Gad, but there is, though. Why, Procurator, this is town’s business; this is a municipal affair; I’m a public character. Why? Ah, here’s a nut for the Crown Prosecutor! I’m a bit of a party to a robbery.

Lawson. Guid guide us, man, what d’ye mean?

Leslie. You shall hear. A week ago to-night I was passing through this very room without a candle on my way to bed, when … what should I see but a masked man fumbling at that window! How he did the Lord knows. I suspect, Procurator, it was not the first he’d tried … for he opened it as handily as his own front door.

Lawson. Preserve me! Another of thae robberies!

Leslie. That’s it. And, of course, I tried to seize him. But the rascal was too quick. He was down and away in an instant. You never saw a thing so daring and adroit.

Lawson. Is that a’? Ye’re a bauld lad, I’ll say that for ye. I’m glad it wasna waur.

Leslie. Yes, that’s all plain sailing. But here’s the hitch. Why didn’t I tell the Procurator-Fiscal? You never thought of that.

Lawson. No, man. Why?

Leslie. Aha! There’s the riddle. Will you guess? No?.. I thought I knew the man.

Lawson. What d’ye say?

Leslie. I thought I knew him.

Lawson. Wha was’t?

Leslie. Ah, there you go beyond me. That I cannot tell.

Lawson. As God sees ye, laddie, are ye speaking truth?

Leslie. Well … of course!

Lawson. The haill truth?

Leslie. All of it. Why not?

Lawson. Man, I’d a kind o’ gliff.

Leslie. Why, what were you afraid of? Had you a suspicion?