BRADFORD
(curtly).
To the pond!
GOODY GURTON
(in a tremulous shriek as Blackthorne and Caldwell begin to bind her in the ducking-chair).
Oh, no, no, no! I am no witch! I swear it! Will no one speak for me—will no one——
[Philippe Beaucoeur, who has approached from right but a moment before, and been partly hidden from view by those in front of him, now steps forward boldly. The knife in his red sash-belt glitters in the sun. His dark face is a-light with interest. His bearing is gallantly determined.
PHILIPPE BEAUCOEUR.
I will speak!
RENOUNCE.
It is Philippe!
PHILIPPE
(boldly).