Fall back. (He obeys.)

RICHARD (imploringly to those around him, and finally to Burgoyne, as
the least stolid of them). Take her away. Do you think I want a woman
near me now?

BURGOYNE (going to Judith and taking her hand). Here, madam: you had
better keep inside the lines; but stand here behind us; and don't look.

Richard, with a great sobbing sigh of relief as she releases him and
turns to Burgoyne, flies for refuge to the cart and mounts into it. The
executioner takes off his coat and pinions him.

JUDITH (resisting Burgoyne quietly and drawing her hand away). No: I
must stay. I won't look. (She goes to the right of the gallows. She
tries to look at Richard, but turns away with a frightful shudder, and
falls on her knees in prayer. Brudenell comes towards her from the back
of the square.)

BURGOYNE (nodding approvingly as she kneels). Ah, quite so. Do not
disturb her, Mr. Brudenell: that will do very nicely. (Brudenell nods
also, and withdraws a little, watching her sympathetically. Burgoyne
resumes his former position, and takes out a handsome gold
chronometer.) Now then, are those preparations made? We must not detain
Mr. Dudgeon.

By this time Richard's hands are bound behind him; and the noose is
round his neck. The two soldiers take the shaft of the wagon, ready to
pull it away. The executioner, standing in the cart behind Richard,
makes a sign to the sergeant.

SERGEANT (to Burgoyne). Ready, sir.

BURGOYNE. Have you anything more to say, Mr. Dudgeon? It wants two
minutes of twelve still.

RICHARD (in the strong voice of a man who has conquered the bitterness
of death). Your watch is two minutes slow by the town clock, which I
can see from here, General. (The town clock strikes the first stroke of
twelve. Involuntarily the people flinch at the sound, and a subdued
groan breaks from them.) Amen! my life for the world's future!

ANDERSON (shouting as he rushes into the market place). Amen; and stop
the execution. (He bursts through the line of soldiers opposite
Burgoyne, and rushes, panting, to the gallows.) I am Anthony Anderson,
the man you want.

The crowd, intensely excited, listens with all its ears. Judith, half
rising, stares at him; then lifts her hands like one whose dearest
prayer has been granted.

SWINDON. Indeed. Then you are just in time to take your place on the
gallows. Arrest him.

At a sign from the sergeant, two soldiers come forward to seize
Anderson.

ANDERSON (thrustin