By this time Richard’s hands are bound behind him; and the noose is round his neck. The two soldiers take the shaft of the wagon, ready to pull it away. The executioner, standing in the cart behind Richard, makes a sign to the sergeant.
THE SERGEANT.
(to Burgoyne). Ready, sir.
BURGOYNE.
Have you anything more to say, Mr. Dudgeon? It wants two minutes of twelve still.
RICHARD.
(in the strong voice of a man who has conquered the bitterness of death). Your watch is two minutes slow by the town clock, which I can see from here, General. (The town clock strikes the first stroke of twelve. Involuntarily the people flinch at the sound, and a subdued groan breaks from them.) Amen! my life for the world’s future!
ANDERSON.
(shouting as he rushes into the market place). Amen; and stop the execution. (He bursts through the line of soldiers opposite Burgoyne, and rushes, panting, to the gallows.) I am Anthony Anderson, the man you want.
The crowd, intensely excited, listens with all its ears. Judith, half rising, stares at him; then lifts her hands like one whose dearest prayer has been granted.
SWINDON.
Indeed. Then you are just in time to take your place on the gallows. Arrest him.
At a sign from the sergeant, two soldiers come forward to seize Anderson.
ANDERSON.
(thrusting a paper under Swindon’s nose). There’s my safe-conduct, sir.
SWINDON.
(taken aback). Safe-conduct! Are you—!