Major: Release the prisoners!
Tavington: Gentlemen, what is this?
Major: Prisoner exchange… He has 18 of our officers.
Tavington: Who is he? I recognize him.
Major: He is the commander of the militia – your ghost! …
Stay that sword, colonel! He rode in under a white flag for a formal parley.
Tavington: This is madness.
Major: If you harm him, you’ll condemn our officers!
Tavington: With all due respect, sir, he’s killed as many officers in the last
two months.
Major: He has shown no aggression here. Hence, he cannot be
touched!
Tavington: Has he not?… You! So, you are the ghost, are you? I remember
you! On that farm! That stupid little boy! … Did he die, hm? You
know, it’s an ugly business doing one’s duty, but just occasionally, it’s a real pleasure…
Martin: Before this war is over, I am going to kill you.
Tavington: Why wait?
Martin: Soon.

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