Chapter 40

LESLIE (_calling_). In good time, never fear! (_He carefully bolts and chains the door._) The old gentleman seems upset. What for, I wonder? Has he had a masked visitor? Why not? It's the fashion. Out with the lights. (_Blows out the candles. The stage is only lighted by the moon through the window._) He is sure to come one night or other. He must come. Right or wrong, I feel it in the air. Man, but I know you, I know you somewhere. That trick of the shoulders, the hang of the clothes--whose are they? Where have I seen them? And then, that single look of the eye, that one glance about the room as the window opened ... it is almost friendly; I have caught it over the glass's rim! If it should be ... his? No, his it is not.

WATCHMAN (_without_). Past ten o'clock, and a fine moonlight night.

ANOTHER (_further away_). Past ten o'clock, and all's well.

LESLIE. Past ten? Ah, there's a long night before you and me, watchmen. Heavens, what a trade! But it will be something to laugh over with Mary and ... with him! Damn it, the delusion is too strong for me. It's a thing to be ashamed of. "We Brodies": how she says it! "We Brodies and our Deacon": what a pride she takes in it, and how good it sounds to me! "Deacon of his craft, sir, Deacon of the ..." (_BRODIE, masked, appears without at the window, which he proceeds to force._) Ha! I knew he'd come. I was sure of it. (_He crouches near and nearer to the window, keeping in the shade._) And I know you too. I swear I know you.