thickens; his face reddens; the fleshy purses under his eyes
become injected with hot blood; the man of peace vanishes,
transfigured into a choleric and formidable man of war. Still,
she does not come out of her absorption to look at him: her eyes
are steadfast with a mechanical reflection of Richard's stead-
fastness.)

JUDITH. He took your place: he is dying to save you. That is why
he went in your coat. That is why I kissed him.

ANDERSON (exploding). Blood an' owns! (His voice is rough and
dominant, his gesture full of brute energy.) Here! Essie, Essie!

ESSIE (running in). Yes.

ANDERSON (impetuously). Off with you as hard as you can run, to
the inn. Tell them to saddle the fastest and strongest horse they
have (Judith rises breathless, and stares at him incredulously)--
the chestnut mare, if she's fresh--without a moment's delay. Go
into the stable yard and tell the black man there that I'll give
him a silver dollar if the horse is waiting for me when I come,
and that I am close on your heels. Away with you. (His energy
sends Essie flying from the room. He pounces on his riding boots;
rushes with them to the chair at the fire; and begins pulling
them on.)

JUDITH (unable to believe such a thing of him). You are not going
to him!

ANDERSON (busy with the boots). Going to him! What good would