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.
THE 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.
THE 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.)