GUY (sarcastically). Then as Nature won't assist you, Captain, you'll have to draw upon the great store of military tactics you no doubt acquired in your numerous campaigns. How long will it take to get your men placed between that crowd and the factory?
CAPTAIN. Oh, say ten minutes. The moon will be clear before then.
GUY. I hope it won't. They'll run like hares at the sight of a uniform, and I want them taught a lesson they'll not forget in a hurry.
EPHRAIM (picking up lantern). Shall we go?
GUY. Yes. I'll join you below.
EPHRAIM. Join? Aren't you coming?
GUY. In a minute. For the moment I have business here.
CAPTAIN. What business are we to imagine that can keep you here alone?
GUY. You can imagine any business you like. You can imagine me praying for the British Army when it is officered by men like you, but, at any rate, you can leave me here.
CAPTAIN (sneering). Yes. You'll be quite out of danger here, Mr. Barlow.