"A frigate was sent to investigate," Croucher exclaimed triumphantly, glad to have some positive evidence to give.
"What did she do?"
"She reported that all was well."
"I asked what she did, not what she reported."
"Well, she went close to the other merchantman and hailed her."
"Do you know now who in fact answered the frigate's hail?"
"Yes, a French prize crew."
"How did a French prize crew come to be on board her?"
"They had been put on board the previous night by the Peacock."
"Thank you," Ramage said heavily. "You gave evidence that on the night that the Peacock attacked the Topaz, the Triton engaged her. Do you think the Triton's fire drove off the Peacock, or contributed to her capture?"
"Not that I know of," Croucher said. "It was the alertness of the Topaz's own officers and the bravery of her own crew with the assistance of the Greyhound."
"How can you be sure?"
"The captain of the Topaz boarded the Lion the next day and made a report to the Admiral."
"In writing?"
"No, verbally, I understand."
"Do you have my written report on the episode?"
"No," Croucher said nervously, glancing at Goddard. "You made no such report."
Ramage's jaw dropped. He looked over at Goddard, who was staring at him, his eyes hate-laden and triumphant. So he had managed to persuade Croucher to condone the deliberate suppression of evidence.
"Did you make any charges or remonstrances when I came on board the Lion on the morning after the attack?"
"You know very well that the Admiral did. And I gather that Mr Yorke, the Master of the Topaz, did so as well."
Napier was watching Ramage, expecting a protest from him about hearsay evidence, but Ramage rubbed the scar over his brow and could not resist asking: "Did Mr Yorke make any specific accusations of cowardice?"
"I was not there," Croucher said lamely. "But I gather he was very bitter against you."
"He accused me of cowardice?"
"So I was told."
"And anything else?"
"I understand that he said you'd nearly been the death of his passengers, and that he was going to complain to the Commander-in-Chief."
"Did he?"
"No. They were all drowned in the hurricane."
"Did Mr Yorke make any written accusations of cowardice?"
"The Admiral thought it unnecessary. There was no hint that such a tragedy would overtake them. It could have been done on arrival at Kingston."
"Did the captain of the Greyhound frigate make any written report about the Peacock's attack?"
"He probably did, but it was not delivered to the flagship."
Ramage glanced at his watch again to have time to think. Croucher puzzled him. The man seemed nervous, many of his answers were qualified and the quick glances at Goddard seemed to indicate that he was giving evidence against his will and trying to say the minimum that would gain him Goddard's approval. Had Croucher at last seen the Admiral for what he was? Had his behaviour in the hurricane finally sickened him? Plenty of questions, Ramage thought sourly, and damned few answers...
"I have only two more questions. From what you saw, from your own professional knowledge and experience, do you consider I was guilty of cowardice during the attack by the Peacock?"
"I was too far away to see everything."
"Do you consider the accusation of cowardice made against me by Mr Yorke of the Topaz was justified?"
"From what I have heard of the incident, yes."
"Thank you. I have no more questions."
The seven captains were looking at Ramage as though he had gone mad. The deputy judge advocate's pen had been flying over the paper and he had been feverishly pushing his spectacles back as they kept sliding down his nose.
Croucher looked uneasy. His earlier doubts about his estimate of distances were of little consequence but Ramage's questions had brought out how little he knew from his own experience and how much he had heard from Goddard.
Syme began reading back the evidence and Ramage sat down and pulled out his watch again. Syme had five minutes to get through it and have Croucher sign it as a correct record of his evidence.
At that moment there was a knock on the door and Ramage realized that he had not decided exactly how to handle the next episode. Napier looked up angrily, signalled to the provost marshal, who went to the door, had a whispered conversation with someone outside, shut the door again and marched over to the President.
He placed a letter before Napier and whispered something. The President waved him away and opened the letter. Three small white cards dropped out, and Napier, obviously puzzled, glanced at them before reading the letter. He then looked up at Ramage, and folded the letter and cards.
Syme finished reading the evidence and Napier glanced at Croucher.
"You may remain in court if you wish," he said.
He has guessed, Ramage thought to himself; or if he has not guessed, he suspects!
"Mr Ramage," Napier said, "you mentioned earlier that you might have further witnesses. It appears they have arrived. This has come for you, and the court agrees to your receiving it."
He held up the letter, and Ramage walked over to collect it. Goddard was lolling back in his chair, completely satisfied with the way things were going and making little effort to hide his boredom. He began polishing his nails with an ivory-backed strip of chamois leather, and Croucher moved to the back of the cabin and took the chair offered him by a lieutenant.
Ramage went to his place and sat down before reading the letter. Unsigned, it said simply: "Three witnesses of extreme importance to the defence are waiting to give evidence."
He read the names on the visiting cards. The first said "Sydney Yorke", the second was larger, and embossed on it was "Le Duc de Bretagne", the third said, "Le Comte de Chambéry".
Ramage felt his head spinning. So the man calling himself "St Brieuc" was the Duke of Brittany, one of the most powerful men in France before the Revolution, a close friend of the late French King, and now the leader of the French refugees in London. "Valuable cargo" indeed! Goddard must have known his real identity - which meant that Goddard too was fighting for his professional life!
Sir Pilcher must be wanting to know why the Duke of Brittany had left the Lion - which survived the hurricane - and sailed on the Topaz, which foundered. Even if Sir Pilcher could be satisfied, the Admiralty - and the Government - would be ruthless. He imagined the Foreign Secretary's angry notes to the Admiralty - "Why did the Duke leave the Lion! How was it that a French privateer was allowed to attack the Topaz"? With a hurricane coming, why was the Duke not made to return to the Lion?" Goddard could hardly tell the truth: that it had started because of something offensive he did or said to the Duke's daughter. He needed a scapegoat - and he had chosen the "cowardly" Lieutenant Ramage ...
Ramage tried to decide which of the three men to call first. Better start with Yorke, because ... he suddenly realized he had made a terrible mistake; a mistake so obvious that, his body rigid with fear, he could hardly believe it.
He had told St Brieuc - the Duke, rather - and Yorke to come at half past ten on the assumption that the prosecution case would be almost over by then. But the case was going so slowly that several prosecution witnesses had still to be called. He would not be able to call the defence witnesses before tomorrow morning, at the earliest. With the Duke, the Count and Yorke already on board the Arrogant - and Captain Napier had seen their visiting cards - it would be impossible to keep their existence secret for another ten minutes, let alone twenty-four hours. Without a surprise confrontation, he was lost ... unless - he realized there was just one chance of springing his trap.