VICAR. Then, by G.o.d and all the powers of grace, you shall not go alone! Off with these lies and make-believes! Off with these prisoner's shackles! They cramp, they stifle me! Freedom!

Freedom! This is no priest's work--it calls for a man! . . .

[He tears off his parson's coat and collar, casting them furiously aside. He rolls up his sleeves.]

Now, if you're ready, Comrade: you and I together!

AUNTIE. G.o.d's might go with you, William! Accept him, Christ!

[There is a silence. Then ROBERT speaks with slow consideration.]

ROBERT. I--don't--know. It's dangerous, you understand!

VICAR. I go with you.

ROBERT. This ain't psalms an 'ymns an' ole maids' tea-parties, mind you! It may mean typhoid!

VICAR. I understand.

ROBERT. Rats.

VICAR. Yes.

ROBERT. They don't leave you alone: they got teeth, remember--poison in 'em!

VICAR. I will go with you.

[A slight pause. Then ROBERT, dropping into a quite ordinary tone, says.]

ROBERT. Then let's 'av' summat so eat, an' get along. There's nuthin' more to say.

MARY [inspired]. Yes, there is!

ROBERT. What do you mean, miss?

MARY. I mean that I understand: that I know who you are.

ROBERT. Me? . . .

MARY [simply]. Yes, you are my father.

ROBERT. 'Ow the everlastin' did you know that?

MARY [going up to him]. Because you are my wish come true: because you are brave, because you are very beautiful, because you are good!

ROBERT. My little kid! My little kid!

[They embrace each other.]

VICAR. Robert! [Taking his left hand].

AUNTIE. Brother! [Taking his other hand.]

[They form a kind of cross.]

[MANSON and ROGERS re-enter with table-cloth, etc., for lunch.]

MANSON. Come along, Rogers. Take that end.

[They lay the cloth, as it were with ceremonial gravity, MANSON being at the upper end of the table. They pay no heed to the others, who watch them interestedly.]

ROBERT. I could just do with a good, square feed. My work meks me 'ungry.

MANSON. Flowers, Rogers.

[ROGERS brings vase from side-board and places it on the VICAR'S side of the table. MANSON removes it to a more communal position.

Presently looking up, he sees the group to his left watching him.]

Oh, beg pardon, sir: perhaps you'd like to know--the Bishop of Benares is here.

VICAR. What, already! Let's have him in at once!

[MANSON deliberates with the flowers before he speaks.]

MANSON. He is here.

[The VICAR crosses towards him.]

VICAR. What do you mean? Where is he?

[MANSON looks at him over the flowers.]

MANSON. Here.

[The VICAR steps back, gazing at him. After a moment he gasps.]

VICAR. In G.o.d's name, who are you?

MANSON. In G.o.d's Name--your brother.

[He holds out his hand. The VICAR takes it, sinking to his knees and sobbing as one broken yet healed.]

[The curtain descends slowly.]

THE END