AINSLIE. It’s him, mister; it’s him. That’s the man. Ye’re in the very bit. Deacon Brodie. I’ll can tak’ ye to his vera door. HUNT. How do you know? AINSLIE. I gi’ed him a han’ wi’ them a’. It was him an’ Badger Moore, and Geordie Smith; an’ they gart me gang wi’ them whether or no; I’m that weak, an’ whiles I’m donner’d wi’ the drink. But I ken a’, an’ I’ll tell a’. And O kind gentleman, you’ll speak to their lordships for me, an’ I’ll no be hangit . . . I’ll no be hangit, wull I? HUNT. But you shared, didn’t you? I wonder what share they thought you worth. How much did you get for last night’s performance down at Mother Clarke’s? AINSLIE. Just five pund, mister. Five pund. As sure’s deith it wadna be a penny mair. No but I askit mair: I did that; I’ll do deny it, mister. But Badger kickit me, an’ Geordie, he said a bad sweir, an’ made he’d cut the liver out o’ me, an’ catch fish wi’t. It’s been that way frae the first: an aith an’ a bawbee was aye guid eneuch for puir Andra. HUNT. Well, and why did they do it? I saw Jemmy dance a hornpipe on the table, and booze the company all round, when the Deacon was gone. What made you cross the fight, and play booty with your own man? AINSLIE. Just to make him rob the Excise, mister. They’re wicked, wicked men. HUNT. And is he right for it? AINSLIE. Ay is he. HUNT. By jingo! When’s it for? AINSLIE. Dear, kind gentleman, I dinna rightly ken: the Deacon’s that sair angered wi’ me. I’m to get my orders frae Geordie the nicht. HUNT. O, you’re to get your orders from Geordie, are you? Now look here, Ainslie. You know me. I’m Hunt the Runner; I put Jemmy Rivers in the jug this morning; I’ve got you this evening. I mean to wind up with the Deacon. You understand? All right. Then just you listen. I’m going to take these here bracelets off, and send you home to that celebrated bed of yours. Only, as soon as you’ve seen the Dook you come straight round to me at Mr. Procurator-Fiscal’s, and let me know the Dook’s views. One word, mind, and . . . cl’k! It’s a bargain? AINSLIE. Never you fear that. I’ll tak’ my bannet an’ come straucht to ye. Eh God, I’m glad it’s nae mair nor that to start wi’. An’ may the Lord bless ye, dear, kind gentleman, for your kindness. May the Lord bless ye. HUNT. You pad the hoof. AINSLIE (_going out_). An’ so I wull, wulln’t I not? An’ bless, bless ye while there’s breath in my body, wulln’t I not? HUNT (_solus_). You’re a nice young man, Andrew Ainslie. Jemmy Rivers and the Deacon in two days! By jingo! (_He dances an instant gravely_, _whistling to himself_.) Jerry, that ’ere little two hundred of ours is as safe as the bank. TABLEAU VI. UNMASKED _The Stage represents a room in Leslie’s house_. _A practicable window_, _C._, _through which a band of strong moonlight falls into the room_. _Near the window a strong-box_. _A practicable door in wing_, _L._ _Candlelight_. SCENE I