them.

THE SERGEANT. Sorry to disturb you, mum! duty! Anthony Anderson:
I arrest you in King George's name as a rebel.

JUDITH (pointing at Richard). But that is not-- (He looks up
quickly at her, with a face of iron. She stops her mouth hastily
with the hand she has raised to indicate him, and stands staring
affrightedly.)

THE SERGEANT. Come, Parson; put your coat on and come along.

RICHARD. Yes: I'll come. (He rises and takes a step towards his
own coat; then recollects himself, and, with his back to the
sergeant, moves his gaze slowly round the room without turning
his head until he sees Anderson's black coat hanging up on the
press. He goes composedly to it; takes it down; and puts it on.
The idea of himself as a parson tickles him: he looks down at the
black sleeve on his arm, and then smiles slyly at Judith, whose
white face shows him that what she is painfully struggling to
grasp is not the humor of the situation but its horror. He turns
to the sergeant, who is approaching him with a pair of handcuffs
hidden behind him, and says lightly) Did you ever arrest a man of
my cloth before, Sergeant?

THE SERGEANT (instinctively respectful, half to the black coat,
half to Richard's good breeding). Well, no sir. At least, only an
army chaplain. (Showing the handcuffs.) I'm sorry, air; but
duty--