Bill. Scoutin’ party got me. Corporal raddled my bones terrible when I fought and bit, fearin’ they’d find your message hid in my smock. They near tore it off, damn ’em.
Beat. You have the tablets?
Bill. No.
Beat. They have them? (With relief.) Then they haven’t reached James!
Bill. The gentleman? Oh, ay. When we come to Grantford Farm—I were trussed up be’ind a trooper—Corporal called out little Jock o’ Grantford—his fayther’s a bitter Whig—and bade ’im take your message to Goodrest, to keep the gentleman waitin’ till the red coats be come.
Beat. (To Patty.) Where’s Grizel?
Patty. In the paddock’m. But—
Beat. Saddle her at once. I must to Goodrest.
(Patty hesitates.)