As the horses clattered towards Sir Pilcher's house, Ramage thought about his summons. It was silly to wonder why the Commander-in-Chief was interesting himself in a mere lieutenant; Goddard had seen to it that Ramage was no longer a "mere lieutenant". He now had all the notoriety of a queen's lover or a famous highwayman.
Ramage wiped the perspiration from his brow, straightened his hat, tucked his papers under his arm and grasped the scabbard of his sword: the coachman was reining in the horses in front of a large, four-square white house guarded by Marines.
Ten minutes later Ramage was being ushered into Sir Pilcher's office.
The Admiral was plump, shorter than Ramage and with a tendency to waddle. He had several chins and his cheeks were fat and sagging. He had the glistening pink complexion of a man who enjoyed good living.
"Ah, Mr Ramage?"
He gave Ramage a limp handshake.
"Come, let us sit comfortably."
He led the way to some armchairs set in the middle of the room round a small, low and highly polished table.
He sat in one chair and waved Ramage to one opposite him.
"A cool drink? No? Well now, I trust you are having an enjoyable stay with the Governor."
"Yes, sir, most enjoyable."
"Good, good, a delightful man, and so competent. And the Duke - in good health, I trust?"
"Yes, sir," Ramage said.
"I must congratulate you, Ramage, on bringing the Duke - and his entourage, of course - here safely."
Ramage nodded politely.
"The Duke has - er, explained his..."
"In great confidence, sir."
"Quite so, quite so. He told the Governor he wished you to know."
Sir Pilcher flicked imaginary dust from his lapels, obviously ill at ease.
"Er - I have just read your report to Admiral Goddard on the loss of the Triton..."
"I have the others here, sir."
"Oh, excellent; let me have them."
Ramage took the first one. "This takes up from the time we were wrecked on Snake Island, sir, until we arrived in sight of Jamaica in La Perla."
"Excellent, excellent."
"And this deals with the period we were on Snake Island."
"Ah - finding the treasure, eh?"
"Exactly, sir."
"Splendid business, Ramage, quite splendid. The Admiralty - indeed, the Government - will be delighted. We are having it unloaded now. I went down to look - boxes and boxes! My dear fellow, what a haul!"
"Yes, sir. J wonder who the pirate was?"
"Ah yes, the Attorney-General has been looking up some records. This place has a long history of piracy, as you know - Jamaica I mean. That fellow Morgan was after one particular man back in 1690. Seems they were shipmates at first - Brethren of the Coast - and then they fell out. The Attorney-General seems to think it was most likely his. There's some legend that he and his gang vanished, and after a quarrel with Morgan he went to a lonely island and drank himself to death."
"A sad end," Ramage said, since the Admiral seemed to expect some comment.
"Ha, yes! All that gold and nothing to spend it on, what? Well, 'easy come, easy go' I suppose."
Ramage waited. The point of all this was bound to emerge soon.
Sir Pilcher stuck his finger inside his stock and gave it a tug, as if it was too tight.
"Sure you won't have a drink, Ramage?"
"Thank you, sir, no."
"I will, then: ring for a steward, there's a good fellow."
Ramage walked over to the long, richly embroidered bellpull, gave it a tug, and heard a distant, faint ringing. A few moments later a coloured steward glided in.
"Rum and lemon, Albert. The 'tenant's not drinking."
As soon as the steward left the room, Sir Pilcher said: "This court-martial business, Ramage ..."
Ramage glanced up, his eyebrows raised, and waited.
"Deuced difficult, y'know."
"In what way, sir?"
"Doubtful if it was in legal form. Napier, the president, was in a damnably difficult position. The deputy judge advocate wasn't much use to him."
Ramage felt his skin go cold with fright. Had they celebrated too soon? He had forgotten that Sir.Pilcher could declare his trial void and order a new one on some technicality. At a new trial, the cowardice charges could be forgotten and Sir Pilcher and Goddard, with the help of the best legal brains available, could draw up new charges ... His talk with the Attorney-General took on a new meaning, and he tried to remember the past cases the man had cited so carefully. At the time they had seemed of little significance or relevance.
"In what way was it illegal, sir?"
"Well, not exactly illegal. Fact is, the charges were drawn up without the prosecution knowing all the facts - or about all the witnesses."
"But that's the prosecution's responsibility, sir," Ramage protested. "The witnesses arrived in time and the facts eventually emerged!"
"Oh, quite, quite; no one's disputing that. It's a question of how the evidence was introduced, an' all that sort of thing. You know what sticklers these lawyers are!"
"The court didn't express any doubts, sir."
"No, no, but as I was saying just now, that damned deputy judge advocate - what was his name? Syme? He didn't advise the president properly."
"What can be done now, sir?"
"Deuced difficult, Ramage; blessed if I know. I hate having to order a new trial, after all you've been through ... there's still the court of inquiry on the loss of the Triton, of course."
Was this a veiled threat, Ramage wondered. Sir Pilcher was going to show what he could do to him if Ramage didn't agree with whatever the Commander-in-Chief had in mind. But what exactly had he in mind? His manner was still remarkably friendly.
"A similarity to the case of Captain Powlett, perhaps, sir?" Ramage asked innocently.
"Powlett? Powlett? That was way back in fifty-two," Sir Pilcher said, and Ramage knew that the Attorney-General's comments were based on solid ground. The case had been discussed in the past few hours: Sir Pilcher remembered the date too easily.
"The court sat for several days," Ramage persisted. "When they finally doubted if they could legally reach a verdict, they sent the minutes to the Admiralty for Their Lordships to decide."
"You sound like a sea lawyer, my boy," the Admiral said sharply.
"I've needed some sort of lawyer these last few hours," Ramage said bitterly. He spoke so rudely he waited for the explosion, but none came, and he decided to press the point the Attorney-General had given him.
"When Admiral Griffin said he would not proceed against Captain Powlett because witnesses were abroad, the court-"
"I know, I know," Sir Pilcher said testily, "I spent half the night reading the case!"
"Then I don't understand what the problem is, sir. Could you..."
"Damnation, Ramage," he exploded, "don't you see you've put Admiral Goddard in a deucedly tricky position?"
"My apologies, sir," Ramage said. "But the Admiral was trying to hang me." He wondered if Sir Pilcher yet realized that he was beaten even in his attempt to save his second-in-command from public disgrace. His next question should convince the man!
"Would you be kind enough, sir, to issue an order that I should be given an attested copy of the minutes of my trial?"
Sir Pilcher gulped the rest of his rum before asking: "What the devil d'you want them for?"
"Evidence, sir."
"You don't need them for the inquiry into the loss of the Triton."
"It's not for the inquiry, sir."
"What d'you want 'em for, then? A souvenir?" he asked.
"No, sir: I am advised I need them for my case against Admiral Goddard."