Burgoyne (advancing to the table, elaborately cool).  What is this?  What’s happening?  Mr. Anderson:  I’m astonished at you.

Richard.  I am sorry I disturbed you, General.  I merely wanted to strangle your understrapper there. (Breaking out violently at Swindon) Why do you raise the devil in me by bullying the woman like that?  You oatmeal faced dog, I’d twist your cursed head off with the greatest satisfaction. (He puts out his hands to the sergeant) Here:  handcuff me, will you; or I’ll not undertake to keep my fingers off him.

The sergeant takes out a pair of handcuffs and looks to Burgoyne for instructions.

Burgoyne.  Have you addressed profane language to the lady, Major Swindon?

Swindon (very angry).  No, sir, certainly not.  That question should not have been put to me.  I ordered the woman to be removed, as she was disorderly; and the fellow sprang at me.  Put away those handcuffs.  I am perfectly able to take care of myself.

Richard.  Now you talk like a man, I have no quarrel with you.

Burgoyne.  Mr. Anderson—­

Swindon.  His name is Dudgeon, sir, Richard Dudgeon.  He is an impostor.

Burgoyne (brusquely).  Nonsense, sir; you hanged Dudgeon at Springtown.

Richard.  It was my uncle, General.

Burgoyne.  Oh, your uncle. (To Swindon, handsomely) I beg your pardon, Major Swindon. (Swindon acknowledges the apology stiffly.  Burgoyne turns to Richard) We are somewhat unfortunate in our relations with your family.  Well, Mr. Dudgeon, what I wanted to ask you is this:  Who is (reading the name from the letter) William Maindeck Parshotter?

Richard.  He is the Mayor of Springtown.

Burgoyne.  Is William—­Maindeck and so on—­a man of his word?

Richard.  Is he selling you anything?

Burgoyne.  No.

Richard.  Then you may depend on him.

Burgoyne.  Thank you, Mr.—­’m Dudgeon.  By the way, since you are not Mr. Anderson, do we still—­eh, Major Swindon? (meaning “do we still hang him?”)

Richard.  The arrangements are unaltered, General.

Burgoyne.  Ah, indeed.  I am sorry.  Good morning, Mr. Dudgeon.  Good morning, madam.

Richard (interrupting Judith almost fiercely as she is about to make some wild appeal, and taking her arm resolutely).  Not one word more.  Come.

She looks imploringly at him, but is overborne by his determination.  They are marched out by the four soldiers:  the sergeant, very sulky, walking between Swindon and Richard, whom he watches as if he were a dangerous animal.

Burgoyne.  Gentlemen:  we need not detain you.  Major Swindon:  a word with you. (The officers go out.  Burgoyne waits with unruffled serenity until the last of them disappears.  Then he becomes very grave, and addresses Swindon for the first time without his title.) Swindon:  do you know what this is (showing him the letter)?