RICHARD (worriedly). I have told them truth enough to hang me ten times over. If you say another word you will risk other lives; but you will not save mine.
BURGOYNE. My good lady, our only desire is to save unpleasantness. What satisfaction would it give you to have a solemn fuss made, with my friend Swindon in a black cap and so forth? I am sure we are greatly indebted to the admirable tact and gentlemanly feeling shown by your husband.
JUDITH (throwing the words in his face). Oh, you are mad. Is it nothing to you what wicked thing you do if only you do it like a gentleman? Is it nothing to you whether you are a murderer or not, if only you murder in a red coat? (Desperately) You shall not hang him: that man is not my husband.
The officers look at one another, and whisper: some of the Germans asking their neighbors to explain what the woman has said. Burgoyne, who has been visibly shaken by Judith's reproach, recovers himself promptly at this new development. Richard meanwhile raises his voice above the buzz.
RICHARD. I appeal to you, gentlemen, to put an end to this. She will not believe that she cannot save me. Break up the court.
BURGOYNE (in a voice so quiet and firm that it restores silence at once). One moment, Mr. Anderson. One moment, gentlemen. (He resumes his seat. Swindon and the officers follow his example.)
Let me understand you clearly, madam. Do you mean that this gentleman is not your husband, or merely--I wish to put this with all delicacy--that you are not his wife?
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.
SERGEANT. Yes sir.
BURGOYNE. Go out into the street and bring in the first townsman you see there.
SERGEANT (making for the door). Yes sir.
BURGOYNE (as the sergeant passes). The first clean, sober townsman you see.
SERGEANT. Yes Sir. (He goes out.)
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.
RICHARD (indignantly). Shame!
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.
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.
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.
SWINDON. What's your name?
CHRISTY. Christy.
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.
BURGOYNE (springing up and speaking to the sergeant in a startling voice). Where is the man who brought these?
SERGEANT. In the guard-room, sir.
Burgoyne goes out with a haste that sets the officers exchanging looks.
SWINDON (to Christy). Do you know Anthony Anderson, the Presbyterian minister?
CHRISTY. Of course I do. (Implying that Swindon must be an ass not to know it.)
SWINDON. Is he here?
CHRISTY (staring round). I don't know.
SWINDON. Do you see him?
CHRISTY. No.
SWINDON. You seem to know the prisoner?
CHRISTY. Do you mean Dick?
SWINDON. Which is Dick?
CHRISTY (pointing to Richard). Him.
SWINDON. What is his name?
CHRISTY. Dick.
RICHARD. Answer properly, you jumping jackass. What do they know about Dick?
CHRISTY. Well, you are Dick, ain't you? What am I to say?
SWINDON. Address me, sir; and do you, prisoner, be silent. Tell us who the prisoner is.
CHRISTY. He's my brother Dudgeon.
SWINDON. Your brother!
CHRISTY. Yes.
SWINDON. You are sure he is not Anderson.
CHRISTY. Who?
RICHARD (exasperatedly). Me, me, me, you--
SWINDON. Silence, sir.
SERGEANT (shouting). Silence.
RICHARD (impatiently). Yah! (To Christy) He wants to know am I Minister Anderson. Tell him, and stop grinning like a zany.
CHRISTY (grinning more than ever). YOU Pastor Anderson! (To Swindon) Why, Mr. Anderson's a minister---a very good man; and Dick's a bad character: the respectable people won't speak to him. He's the bad brother: I'm the good one, (The officers laugh outright. The soldiers grin.)
SWINDON. Who arrested this man?
SERGEANT. I did, sir. I found him in the minister's house, sitting at tea with the lady with his coat off, quite at home. If he isn't married to her, he ought to be.
SWINDON. Did he answer to the minister's name?
SERGEANT. Yes sir, but not to a minister's nature. You ask the chaplain, sir.
SWINDON (to Richard, threateningly). So, sir, you have attempted to cheat us. And your name is Richard Dudgeon?
RICHARD. You've found it out at last, have you?
SWINDON. Dudgeon is a name well known to us, eh?
RICHARD. Yes: Peter Dudgeon, whom you murdered, was my uncle.
