The Duke walked in and bowed deeply. Napier, uncertain what to do, stood up and bowed back.
"Your Grace," he said hesitantly, "I - er, is your Grace familiar with the English language?"
"Perfectly, thank you."
Napier went red. "You understand that I am duty bound to ask the question."
"Of course," the Duke said. "But I have no need of an interpreter."
"The oath," Napier said, motioning to Syme.
The Duke took the oath, using the Crucifix, and Napier said apologetically, "The deputy judge advocate has first to write down the question, and then your answer, so..."
"I understand perfectly," the Duke said.
"You travelled to Jamaica in a ship called the Topaz?”Ramage asked, hoping the Duke would realize the significance of the question.
"I travelled part of the way in the Topaz" he said, and before anyone could stop him, added, "I and my suite transferred to her from the Lion because of the behaviour of Admiral Goddard."
In the silence that followed Ramage heard his own heart thumping. Would Napier rule the answer out of order? Would Goddard protest? Quickly he asked the next question.
"What happened on the night of thex eighteenth of July last?"
"The Topaz was attacked by a French privateer."
"Was the attack successful?"
"No, it was foiled completely because of the foresight and daring of the Triton brig."
"Did you make any complaints to the Admiral following the attack?"
"Yes, because he had been criminally negligent in allowing this privateer to sail in the convoy for several days."
Still no one challenged the legality of the reply and, hardly believing his good luck, Ramage plunged on, rubbing the scar on his forehead.
"Evidence has been given in this court that you sent the captain of the Topaz on board the Lion to accuse myself of cowardice in not coming to the defence of the Topaz. On what grounds did you make that accusation?"
"I made no such accusation," the Duke said quietly. "It is not for me to speculate about the motives of any man who makes such a claim."
Napier interrupted: "The court desires to know if the captain of the Topaz carried any message from you to the Admiral, and if so, the nature of the message."
"Mr Yorke certainly did carry a message. It was in writing. It praised Mr Ramage and said I was writing to His Britannic Majesty drawing his attention to Mr Ramage's bravery in ensuring my safety and allowing me to carry out the mission with which His Majesty had entrusted me."
"Thank you," Napier said.
"Have you any complaint of your treatment at my hands while on Snake Island, or on board La Perla?" Ramage asked.
"Yes," the Duke said gravely, his eyes hard, his face set and his lips squeezed tightly together. Goddard sat up and the members of the court leaned forward expectantly. Ramage looked dumbfounded.
"Would you please tell the court the nature of that complaint?" said Napier.
The Duke's face dissolved into a smile.
"Mr Ramage refused my request to sign on as one of his crew."
The members of the court bellowed with laughter and the noise they made drowned Ramage's own laugh, which had begun to sound slightly hysterical.
"Thank you, your Grace. I have no more questions to ask this witness."
Syme read back the evidence, and once again Napier turned to the Admiral.
"Have you any questions to ask this witness?"
Goddard shook his head, and Ramage said: "That was my last witness."
Napier picked up his watch. Ramage's sword was still lying across the table in front of him.
"The court will adjourn until eight-thirty tomorrow morning, when it will announce its verdict. The prisoner will, of course, remain in custody."
Chapter Twenty-One
Next morning, as Ramage stepped from the Arrogant into La Perla's dingy boat, with its peeling paint and heavy balanced oars, he was conscious only of smiling, welcoming faces. At the tiller stood Jackson, smartly dressed, freshly shaven, hair tied in a neat queue. In the stern sheets was Southwick, flowing white hair sticking out from under his hat, holding the scabbard of his sword close to his side. Next to him was Yorke, his grin no longer sardonic but exuberant, as though he had just won heavily while playing faro for high stakes. Beyond him was the Duke, whose face had the contented look of a man welcoming home a prodigal son.
Southwick reached out a hand.
"I'll take your sword, sir."
In this, his moment of triumph, shared by the friends who had helped bring it about, Ramage was close to tears. That one gesture by Southwick summed it up.
An officer brought before a court martial surrendered his sword - in effect his badge of office - to the provost marshal, who handed it to the court. Throughout the trial his sword had been lying on the green baize of the table in front of the captains. Round it was piled, almost symbolically, the paraphernalia needed for the administration of justice - the law books required for reference, ships' logs and muster books which had become numbered exhibits, and their entries, often made in a hurry, or later when memory could be at fault - capable of having an enormous significance in the legal re-creation of some long-past event.
Then, with all examination of witnesses over, the minutes of evidence read aloud for the last time, the seven captains having deliberated, the court had at last been ready to announce its verdict.
Ramage - "the prisoner" - had been summoned and the door into the great cabin was flung open in front of him. As he walked in, head erect, shoulders back, heart racing, he had tried to glimpse the sword on the table. But Syme and the three nearest captains obscured it. Knowing that everyone in the cabin was watching him, he went straight to his chair and stood in front of it, turning slightly to bow to the members of the court.
As he did so, he glimpsed the sword in its scabbard. It was lying on the table with its hilt towards him, indicating that the court's verdict was not guilty. Quite involuntarily, he had glanced at Goddard. The Admiral, too, was staring at the sword. By chance, as it was lying in its scabbard on the table, the blade was pointing towards the Admiral.
Napier had spoken the court's verdict and Ramage had accepted his sword from him. He had muttered his thanks to the court and stumbled from the cabin into the sunlight. He had gone to the bulwarks and stared over the side at the wavelets, and a swarm of small, minnow-like fish had leapt out of the water, frantically trying to escape from some hidden predator. Beyond, anchored at random, were the Lion and eleven merchantmen; the only survivors of the hurricane.
He had turned, and Jackson had been standing there alone, with the others waiting a few feet away.
"Your boat is ready, sir," the American had said, and spontaneously Ramage had shaken him by the hand and only realized he was trembling violently when he found he could put no pressure in his grip.
One by one, Stafford, Appleby, Southwick, Yorke and the Duke had shaken him by the hand, and the Duke had said: "My wife and my daughter also thank you for all you've done, and all you've suffered for us."
As Ramage sat down on the thwart beside the Duke, Jackson gave the order to shove off. Stafford was rowing stroke, with Rossi behind him, then Maxton and another coloured man, who was a fraction of a second slower than the others. It was Roberto, the former Spanish slave and now rated a landsman in the Royal Navy.
Jackson was not steering towards La Perla and Ramage was just going to say something when he remembered that they would have to put the Duke and Yorke on shore.