BRODIE. Trust me. No man forgets his vice, you dogs, or forgives it
either. It must be done: Leslie's to-night and the Excise to-morrow. It
shall be done. This settles it. They used to fetch and carry for me, and
now ... I've licked their boots, have I? I'm their man, their tool,
their chattel. It's the bottom rung of the ladder of shame. I sound with
my foot, and there's nothing underneath but the black emptiness of
damnation. Ah, Deacon, Deacon, and so this is where you've been
travelling all these years; and it's for this that you learned French!
The gallows ... God help me, it begins to dog me like my shadow.
_There's_ a step to take! And the jerk upon your spine! How's a man to
die with a night-cap on? I've done with this. Over yonder, across the
great ocean, is a new land, with new characters, and perhaps new lives.
The sun shines, and the bells ring, and it's a place where men live
gladly; and the Deacon himself can walk without terror, and begin again
like a new-born child. It must be good to see day again and not to fear;
it must be good to be one's self with all men. Happy like a child, wise
like a man, free like God's angels ... should I work these hands off and
eat crusts, there were a life to make me young and good again. And it's
only over the sea! O man, you have been blind, and now your eyes are
opened. It was half a life's nightmare, and now you are awake. Up,
Deacon, up, it's hope that's at the window! Mary! Mary! Mary!