MOORE. Deacon, I looks towards you. But it looks thundering
like rotten eggs, don't it?

BRODIE. I think not. I was masked, for one thing, and for
another I was as quick as lightning. He suspects me so little
that he dined with me this very afternoon.

MOORE. Anyway, you ain't game to try it on again, I'll lay odds
on that. Once bit, twice shy. That's your motto.

BRODIE. Right again. I'll put my ALIBI to a better use. And,
Badger, one word in your ear: there's no Newcastle Jemmy about
ME. Drop the subject, and for good, or I shall drop you. (HE
RISES, AND WALKS BACKWARDS AND FORWARDS, A LITTLE UNSTEADILY.
THEN RETURNS, AND SITS L., AS BEFORE.)


SCENE II

To these, HUNT, disguised He is disguised as a 'flying stationer'
with a patch over his eye. He sits at table opposite BRODIE'S
and is served with bread and cheese and beer.

HAMILTON (FROM BEHIND). The deevil tak' the cairts!

AINSLIE. Hoot, man, dinna blame the cairts.

MOORE. Look here, Deacon, I mean business, I do. (HUNT LOOKS UP
AT THE NAME OF 'DEACON.')