Chapter 45

_To these_ BRODIE

MOORE. Waiting for you, Deacon.

BRODIE. I see. Everything ready?

SMITH. All a-growing and a-blowing.

BRODIE. Give me the light. (_Briefly examines tools and door with bull’s eye_.) You, George, stand by, and hand up the pieces. Ainslie, take the glim. Moore, out and watch.

MOORE. I didn’t come here to do sentry-go, I didn’t.

BRODIE. You came here to do as I tell you. (MOORE _goes up slowly_.) Second bunch, George. I know the lock. Steady with the glim. (_At work_.) No good. Give me the centrebit.

SMITH. Right. (_Work continues_. AINSLIE _drops lantern_.)

BRODIE. Curse you! (_Throttling and kicking him_.) You shake, and you shake, and you can’t even hold a light for your betters. Hey?

AINSLIE. Eh Deacon, Deacon . . .

SMITH. Now Ghost! (_With lantern_.)

BRODIE. ’St, Moore!

MOORE. Wot’s the row?

BRODIE. Take you the light.

MOORE (_to_ AINSLIE). Wo’ j’ yer shakin’ at? (_Kicks him_.)

BRODIE (_to_ AINSLIE). Go you, and see if you’re good at keeping watch. Inside the arch. And if you let a footfall pass, I’ll break your back. (AINSLIE _retires_.) Steady with the light. (_At work with centrebit_.) Hand up number four, George. (_At work with picklock_.) That has it.

SMITH. Well done our side.

BRODIE. Now the crow bar! (_At work_.) That’s it. Put down the glim, Badger, and help at the wrench. Your whole weight, men! Put your backs to it! (_While they work at the bar_, BRODIE _stands by_, _dusting his hands with a pocket-handkerchief_. _As the door opens_.)_ Voilà_! In with you.

MOORE (_entering with light_). Mucking fine work too, Deacon!

BRODIE. Take up the irons, George!

SMITH. How about the P(h)antom?

BRODIE. Leave him to me. I’ll give him a look. (_Enters office_.)

SMITH (_following_). Houp-là!