JUDITH. I don’t know what you mean. I say that he is not my husband—that my husband has escaped. This man took his place to save him. Ask anyone in the town—send out into the street for the first person you find there, and bring him in as a witness. He will tell you that the prisoner is not Anthony Anderson.
BURGOYNE. (_quietly, as before_). Sergeant.
BURGOYNE. Go out into the street and bring in the first townsman you see there.
THE SERGEANT. (_making for the door_). Yes sir.
BURGOYNE. (_as the sergeant passes_). The first clean, sober townsman you see.
BURGOYNE. Sit down, Mr. Anderson—if I may call you so for the present. (_Richard sits down._) Sit down, madam, whilst we wait. Give the lady a newspaper.
BURGOYNE. (_keenly, with a half smile_). If you are not her husband, sir, the case is not a serious one—for her. (_Richard bites his lip silenced._)
JUDITH. (_to Richard, as she returns to her seat_). I couldn’t help it. (_He shakes his head. She sits down._)
BURGOYNE. You will understand of course, Mr. Anderson, that you must not build on this little incident. We are bound to make an example of somebody.
RICHARD. I quite understand. I suppose there’s no use in my explaining.
BURGOYNE. I think we should prefer independent testimony, if you don’t mind.
The sergeant, with a packet of papers in his hand, returns conducting Christy, who is much scared.
THE SERGEANT. (_giving Burgoyne the packet_). Dispatches, Sir. Delivered by a corporal of the 53rd. Dead beat with hard riding, sir.
Burgoyne opens the dispatches, and presently becomes absorbed in them. They are so serious as to take his attention completely from the court martial.
THE SERGEANT. (_to Christy_). Now then. Attention; and take your hat off. (_He posts himself in charge of Christy, who stands on Burgoyne’s side of the court._)
RICHARD. (_in his usual bullying tone to Christy_). Don’t be frightened, you fool: you’re only wanted as a witness. They’re not going to hang YOU.
RICHARD. (_impatiently_). Christopher Dudgeon, you blatant idiot. Give your full name.
SWINDON. Be silent, prisoner. You must not prompt the witness.
RICHARD. Very well. But I warn you you’ll get nothing out of him unless you shake it out of him. He has been too well brought up by a pious mother to have any sense or manhood left in him.