ANDERSON. Did he realise his danger, do you think?
JUDITH. (_monotonously_). He said, “See that you get him safely out of harm’s way.” I promised: I can’t keep my promise. He said, “Don’t for your life let him know of my danger.” I’ve told you of it. He said that if you found it out, you could not save him—that they will hang him and not spare you.
ANDERSON. (_rising in generous indignation_). And you think that I will let a man with that much good in him die like a dog, when a few words might make him die like a Christian? I’m ashamed of you, Judith.
JUDITH. He will be steadfast in his religion as you are in yours; and you may depend on him to the death. He said so.
ANDERSON. God forgive him! What else did he say?
ANDERSON. (_fidgeting nervously to and fro in great concern_). Poor fellow, poor fellow! You said goodbye to him in all kindness and charity, Judith, I hope.
ANDERSON. No, no. You were right: you were right. Poor fellow, poor fellow! (_Greatly distressed._) To be hanged like that at his age! And then did they take him away?
JUDITH. (_wearily_). Then you were here: that’s the next thing I remember. I suppose I fainted. Now bid me goodbye, Tony. Perhaps I shall faint again. I wish I could die.
ANDERSON. No, no, my dear: you must pull yourself together and be sensible. I am in no danger—not the least in the world.
JUDITH. (_solemnly_). You are going to your death, Tony—your sure death, if God will let innocent men be murdered. They will not let you see him: they will arrest you the moment you give your name. It was for you the soldiers came.
ANDERSON. (_thunderstruck_). For me!!! (_His fists clinch; his neck thickens; his face reddens; the fleshy purses under his eyes become injected with hot blood; the man of peace vanishes, transfigured into a choleric and formidable man of war. Still, she does not come out of her absorption to look at him: her eyes are steadfast with a mechanical reflection of Richard’s stead-fastness._)
JUDITH. He took your place: he is dying to save you. That is why he went in your coat. That is why I kissed him.
ANDERSON. (_exploding_). Blood an’ owns! (_His voice is rough and dominant, his gesture full of brute energy._) Here! Essie, Essie!
ANDERSON. (_impetuously_). Off with you as hard as you can run, to the inn. Tell them to saddle the fastest and strongest horse they have (_Judith rises breathless, and stares at him incredulously_)—the chestnut mare, if she’s fresh—without a moment’s delay. Go into the stable yard and tell the black man there that I’ll give him a silver dollar if the horse is waiting for me when I come, and that I am close on your heels. Away with you. (_His energy sends Essie flying from the room. He pounces on his riding boots; rushes with them to the chair at the fire; and begins pulling them on._)