Sergeant.  Yes, sir.

Burgoyne.  And mention to any officer you may meet that the court cannot wait any longer for him.

Swindon (keeping his temper with difficulty).  The staff is perfectly ready, sir.  They have been waiting your convenience for fully half an hour.  Perfectly ready, sir.

Burgoyne (blandly).  So am I. (Several officers come in and take their seats.  One of them sits at the end of the table furthest from the door, and acts throughout as clerk to the court, making notes of the proceedings.  The uniforms are those of the 9th, 20th, 21st, 24th, 47th, 53rd, and 62nd British Infantry.  One officer is a Major General of the Royal Artillery.  There are also German officers of the Hessian Rifles, and of German dragoon and Brunswicker regiments.) Oh, good morning, gentlemen.  Sorry to disturb you, I am sure.  Very good of you to spare us a few moments.

Swindon.  Will you preside, sir?

Burgoyne (becoming additionally, polished, lofty, sarcastic and urbane now that he is in public).  No, sir:  I feel my own deficiencies too keenly to presume so far.  If you will kindly allow me, I will sit at the feet of Gamaliel. (He takes the chair at the end of the table next the door, and motions Swindon to the chair of state, waiting for him to be seated before sitting himself.)

Swindon (greatly annoyed).  As you please, sir.  I am only trying to do my duty under excessively trying circumstances. (He takes his place in the chair of state.)

Burgoyne, relaxing his studied demeanor for the moment, sits down and begins to read the report with knitted brows and careworn looks, reflecting on his desperate situation and Swindon’s uselessness.  Richard is brought in.  Judith walks beside him.  Two soldiers precede and two follow him, with the sergeant in command.  They cross the room to the wall opposite the door; but when Richard has just passed before the chair of state the sergeant stops him with a touch on the arm, and posts himself behind him, at his elbow.  Judith stands timidly at the wall.  The four soldiers place themselves in a squad near her.

Burgoyne (looking up and seeing Judith).  Who is that woman?

Sergeant.  Prisoner’s wife, sir.

Swindon (nervously).  She begged me to allow her to be present; and I thought—­

Burgoyne (completing the sentence for him ironically).  You thought it would be a pleasure for her.  Quite so, quite so.  (Blandly) Give the lady a chair; and make her thoroughly comfortable.

The sergeant fetches a chair and places it near Richard.

Judith.  Thank you, sir. (She sits down after an awe-stricken curtsy to Burgoyne, which he acknowledges by a dignified bend of his head.)

Swindon (to Richard, sharply).  Your name, sir?

Richard (affable, but obstinate).  Come:  you don’t mean to say that you’ve brought me here without knowing who I am?