sit down
with him). Only King George, my dear. He's returning to barracks, or
having his roll called, or getting ready for tea, or booting or
saddling or something. Soldiers don't ring the bell or call over the
banisters when they want anything: they send a boy out with a bugle to
disturb the whole town.

JUDITH. Do you think there is really any danger?

ANDERSON. Not the least in the world.

JUDITH. You say that to comfort me, not because you believe it.

ANDERSON. My dear: in this world there is always danger for those who
are afraid of it. There's a danger that the house will catch fire in
the night; but we shan't sleep any the less soundly for that.

JUDITH. Yes, I know what you always say; and you're quite right. Oh,
quite right: I know it. But--I suppose I'm not brave: that's all. My
heart shrinks every time I think of the soldiers.

ANDERSON. Never mind that, dear: bravery is none the worse for costing
a little pain.

JUDITH. Yes, I suppose so. (Embracing him again.) Oh how brave you are,
my dear! (With tears in her eyes.) Well, I'll be brave too: you shan't
be ashamed of your wife.

ANDERSON. That's right. Now you make me happy. Well, well! (He rises
and goes cheerily to the fire to dry his shoes.) I called on Richard
Dudgeon on my way back; but he wasn't in.

JUDITH (rising in consternation). You called on that man!

ANDERSON (reassuring her). Oh, nothing happened, dearie. He was out.

JUDITH (almost in tears, as if the visit were a personal humiliation to
her). But why did you go there?

ANDERSON (gravely). Well, it is all the talk that Major Swindon is
going to do what he did in Springtown--make an example of some
notorious rebel, as he calls us. He pounced on Peter Dudgeon as the
worst character there; and it is the general belief that he will pounce
on Richard as the worst here.

JUDITH. But Richard said--

ANDERSON (goodhumoredly cutting her short). Pooh! Richard said! He said
what he thought would frighten you and frighten me, my dear. He said
what perhaps (God forgive him!) he would like to believe. It's a
terrible thing to think of what death must mean for a man like that. I
felt that I must warn him. I left a message for him.

JUDITH (querulously). What message?

ANDERSON. Only that I should be glad to see him for a moment on a
matter of importance to himself; and that if he would look in here when
he was passing he would be welcome.

JUDITH (aghast). You asked that man to come he