JUDITH (coaxingly) All right, dear: I understand. (To Essie.)
Thank you, Essie, for coming; but I don't need you now. You may go home.
ESSIE (suspicious) Are you sure Dick has not been touched?
Perhaps he told the soldier to say it was the minister.
(Anxiously.) Mrs. Anderson: do you think it can have been that?
ANDERSON. Tell her the truth if it is so, Judith. She will learn it from the first neighbor she meets in the street. (Judith turns away and covers her eyes with her hands.)
ESSIE (wailing). But what will they do to him? Oh, what will they do to him? Will they hang him? (Judith shudders convulsively, and throws herself into the chair in which Richard sat at the tea table.)
ANDERSON (patting Essie's shoulder and trying to comfort her). I hope not. I hope not. Perhaps if you're very quiet and patient, we may be able to help him in some way.
ESSIE. Yes--help him--yes, yes, yes. I'll be good.
ANDERSON. I must go to him at once, Judith.
JUDITH (springing up). Oh no. You must go away--far away, to some place of safety.
ANDERSON. Pooh!
JUDITH (passionately). Do you want to kill me? Do you think I can bear to live for days and days with every knock at the door--every footstep--giving me a spasm of terror? to lie awake for nights and nights in an agony of dread, listening for them to come and arrest you?
ANDERSON. Do you think it would be better to know that I had run away from my post at the first sign of danger?
JUDITH (bitterly). Oh, you won't go. I know it. You'll stay; and I shall go mad.
ANDERSON. My dear, your duty--
JUDITH (fiercely). What do I care about my duty?
ANDERSON (shocked). Judith!
JUDITH. I am doing my duty. I am clinging to my duty. My duty is to get you away, to save you, to leave him to his fate. (Essie utters a cry of distress and sinks on the chair at the fire, sobbing silently.) My instinct is the same as hers--to save him above all things, though it would be so much better for him to die! so much greater! But I know you will take your own way as he took it. I have no power. (She sits down sullenly on the railed seat.) I'm only a woman: I can do nothing but sit here and suffer. Only, tell him I tried to save you--that I did my best to save you.
ANDERSON. My dear, I am afraid he will be thinking more of his own danger than of mine.
JUDITH. Stop; or I shall hate you.
ANDERSON (remonstrating). Come, am I to leave you if you talk like this! your senses. (He turns to Essie.) Essie.
ESSIE (eagerly rising and drying her eyes). Yes?
ANDERSON. Just wait outside a moment, like a good girl: Mrs. Anderson is not well. (Essie looks doubtful.) Never fear: I'll come to you presently; and I'll go to Dick.
ESSIE. You are sure you will go to him? (Whispering.) You won't let her prevent you?
ANDERSON (smiling). No, no: it's all right. All right. (She goes.) That's a good girl. (He closes the door, and returns to Judith.)
JUDITH (seated--rigid). You are going to your death.
ANDERSON (quaintly). Then I shall go in my best coat, dear. (He turns to the press, beginning to take off his coat.) Where--? (He stares at the empty nail for a moment; then looks quickly round to the fire; strides across to it; and lifts Richard's coat.)
Why, my dear, it seems that he has gone in my best coat.
JUDITH (still motionless). Yes.
ANDERSON. Did the soldiers make a mistake?
JUDITH. Yes: they made a mistake.
ANDERSON. He might have told them. Poor fellow, he was too upset, I suppose.
JUDITH. Yes: he might have told them. So might I.
ANDERSON. Well, it's all very puzzling--almost funny. It's curious how these little things strike us even in the most--
(he breaks of and begins putting on Richard's coat) I'd better take him his own coat. I know what he'll say--(imitating Richard's sardonic manner) "Anxious about my soul, Pastor, and also about your best coat." Eh?
JUDITH. Yes, that is just what he will say to you. (Vacantly.) It doesn't matter: I shall never see either of you again.
ANDERSON (rallying her). Oh pooh, pooh, pooh! (He sits down beside her.) Is this how you keep your promise that I shan't be ashamed of my brave wife?
JUDITH. No: this is how I break it. I cannot keep my promises to him: why should I keep my promises to you?
ANDERSON. Don't speak so strangely, my love. It sounds insincere to me. (She looks unutterable reproach at him.) Yes, dear, nonsense is always insincere; and my dearest is talking nonsense.
Just nonsense. (Her face darkens into dumb obstinacy. She stares straight before her, and does not look at him again, absorbed in Richard's fate. He scans her face; sees that his rallying has produced no effect; and gives it up, making no further effort to conceal his anxiety.) I wish I knew what has frightened you so.
Was there a struggle? Did he fight?
JUDITH. No. He smiled.
ANDERSON. Did he realise his danger, do you think?
JUDITH. He realised yours.
ANDERSON. Mine!
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.
