BRIGADIER (_to DUMONT_). John Paul Dumont, I arrest you. DUMONT. Do your duty, officer. I can answer for myself and my own people. BRIGADIER. Yes, but these strangers? DUMONT. They are strangers to me. MACAIRE. I am an honest man: I stand upon my rights: search me; or search this person, of whom I know too little. (_Smiting his brow._) By heaven, I see it all! This morning----(_To BERTRAND._) How, sir, did you dare to flaunt your booty in my very face? (_To BRIGADIER._) He showed me notes; he was up ere day; search him, and you'll find. There stands the murderer. BERTRAND. O, Macaire! (_He is seized and searched and the notes are found._) BRIGADIER. There is blood upon the notes. Handcuffs. (_MACAIRE edging towards the door._) BERTRAND. Macaire, you may as well take the bundle. (_MACAIRE is stopped by sentry, and comes front, R._) CHARLES (_re-appearing_). Stop, I know the truth. (_He comes down._) Brigadier, my father is not dead. He is not even dangerously hurt. He has spoken. There is the would-be assassin. MACAIRE. Hell! (_He darts across to the staircase, and turns on the second step, flashing out the knife._) Back, hounds! (_He springs up the stair, and confronts them from the top._) Fools, I am Robert Macaire! (_As MACAIRE turns to flee, he is met by the Gendarme coming out of Number Thirteen; he stands an instant checked, is shot from the stage, and falls headlong backward down the stair. BERTRAND, with a cry, breaks from the Gendarmes, kneels at his side, and raises his head._) BERTRAND. Macaire, Macaire, forgive me. I didn't blab; you know I didn't blab. MACAIRE. Sold again, old boy. Sold for the last time; at least, the last time this side death. Death----what is death? (_He dies._) CURTAIN PRINTED BY CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C.