LESLIE. I did that. And what’s more, I’ve sat every night in case of his return. I promise you, Procurator, he shall not slip me twice. Meanwhile I’m worried and put out. You understand how such a fancy will upset a man. I’m uneasy with my friends and on bad terms with my own conscience. I keep watching, spying, comparing, putting two and two together, hunting for resemblances until my head goes round. It’s like a puzzle in a dream. Only yesterday I thought I had him. And who d’you think it was? LAWSON. Wha? Wha was’t? Speak, Mr. Leslie, speak. I’m an auld man; dinna forget that. LESLIE. I name no names. It would be unjust to him; and, upon my word, it was so silly it would be unfair to me. However, here I sit, night after night. I mean him to come back; come back he shall; and I’ll tell you who he was next morning. LAWSON. Let sleeping dogs lie, Mr. Leslie; ye dinna ken what ye micht see. And then, leave him alane, he’ll come nae mair. And sitting up a’ nicht . . . it’s a _factum imprestabile_, as we say: a thing impossible to man. Gang ye to your bed, like a guid laddie, and sleep lang and soundly, and bonnie, bonnie dreams to ye! (_Without_.) Let sleeping dogs lie, and gang ye to your bed. SCENE III LESLIE 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. SCENE IV BRODIE, LESLIE