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

Doctor. The Procurator-Fiscal? I shall make it my devoir. Expect him soon. (Goes out with Maid.)

Mary (hastily searches the room). No, he is not there. She was right! O father, you can never know, praise God!

SCENE II

Mary, to whom Jean and afterwards Leslie

Jean (at door). Mistress …!

Mary. Ah! Who is there? Who are you?

Jean. Is he no’ hame yet? I’m aye waitin’ on him.

Mary. Waiting for him? Do you know the Deacon? You?

Jean. I maun see him. Eh, lassie, it’s life and death.

Mary. Death … O my heart!

Jean. I maun see him, bonnie leddie. I’m a puir body, and no’ fit to be seen speakin’ wi’ the likes o’ you. But O lass, ye are the Deacon’s sister, and ye hae the Deacon’s een, and for the love of the dear kind Lord, let’s in and hae a word wi’ him ere it be ower late. I’m bringin’ siller.

Mary. Siller? You? For him? O father, father, if you could hear! What are you? What are you … to him?

Jean. I’ll be the best frien’ ’at ever he had; for, O dear leddie, I wad gie my bluid to help him.

Mary. And the … the child?

Jean. The bairn?

Mary. Nothing! O nothing! I am in trouble, and I know not what I say. And I cannot help you; I cannot help you if I would. He is not here; and I believe he was; and ill … ill; and he is not – he is … O, I think I shall lose my mind!

Jean. Ay, it’s unco business.

Mary. His father is dead within there … dead, I tell you … dead!

Jean. It’s mebbe just as weel.

Mary. Well? Well? Has it come to this? O Walter, Walter! come back to me, or I shall die. (Leslie enters, C.)

Leslie. Mary, Mary! I hoped to have spared you this. (To Jean.) What – you? Is he not here?

Jean. I’m aye waitin’ on him.

Leslie. What has become of him? Is he mad? Where is he?

Jean. The Lord A’michty kens, Mr. Leslie. But I maun find him; I maun find him.

SCENE III

Mary, Leslie

Mary. O Walter, Walter! What does it mean?

Leslie. You have been a brave girl all your life, Mary; you must lean on me … you must trust in me … and be a brave girl till the end.

Mary. Who is she? What does she want with him? And he … where is he? Do you know that my father is dead, and the Deacon not here? Where has he gone? He may be dead, too. Father, brother … O God, it is more than I can bear!

Leslie. Mary, my dear, dear girl … when will you be my wife?

Mary. O, do not speak … not speak … of it to-night. Not to-night! O, not to-night!

Leslie. I know, I know, dear heart! And do you think that I, whom you have chosen, I whose whole life is in your love – do you think that I would press you now if there were not good cause?

Mary. Good cause! Something has happened. Something has happened … to him! Walter…! Is he … dead?

Leslie. There are worse things in the world than death. There is … O Mary, he is your brother!

Mary. What?.. Dishonour!.. The Deacon!.. My God!

Leslie. My wife, my wife!

Mary. No, no! Keep away from me. Don’t touch me. I’m not fit … not fit to be near you. What has he done? I am his sister. Tell me the worst. Tell me the worst at once.

Leslie. That, if God wills, dear, you shall never know. Whatever it be, think that I knew it all, and only loved you better; think that your true husband is with you, and you are not to bear it alone.

Mary. My husband?.. Never.

Leslie. Mary…!

Mary. You forget, you forget what I am. I am his sister. I owe him a lifetime of happiness and love; I owe him even you. And whatever his fault, however ruinous his disgrace, he is my brother – my own brother – and my place is still with him.

Leslie. Your place is with me – is with your husband. With me, with me; and for his sake most of all. What can you do for him alone? how can you help him alone? It wrings my heart to think how little. But together is different. Together…! Join my strength, my will, my courage to your own, and together we may save him.

Mary. All that is over. Once I was blessed among women. I was my father’s daughter, my brother loved me, I lived to be your wife. Now…! My father is dead, my brother is shamed; and you … O how could I face the world, how could I endure myself, if I preferred my happiness to your honour?

Leslie. What is my honour but your happiness? In what else does it consist? Is it in denying me my heart? is it in visiting another’s sin upon the innocent? Could I do that, and be my mother’s son? Could I do that, and bear my father’s name? Could I do that, and have ever been found worthy of you?

Mary. It is my duty … my duty. Why will you make it so hard for me? So hard, Walter, so hard!

Leslie. Do I pursue you only for your good fortune, your beauty, the credit of your friends, your family’s good name? That were not love, and I love you. I love you, dearest, I love you. Friend, father, brother, husband … I must be all these to you. I am a man who can love well.

Mary. Silence … in pity! I cannot … O, I cannot bear it.

Leslie. And say it was I who had fallen. Say I had played my neck and lost it … that I were pushed by the law to the last limits of ignominy and despair. Whose love would sanctify my gaol to me? whose pity would shine upon me in the dock? whose prayers would accompany me to the gallows? Whose but yours? Yours!.. And you would entreat me – me! – to do what you shrink from even in thought, what you would die ere you attempted in deed!

Mary. Walter … on my knees … no more, no more!

Leslie. My wife! my wife! Here on my heart! It is I that must kneel … I that must kneel to you.