"Listen carefully, now: the nineteenth Article . . . 'If any person in or belonging to the Fleet shall make, or endeavour to make, any mutinous assembly ... he shall suffer death . . .' and, in the same Article, '. . . shall utter any words of sedition or mutiny, he shall suffer death . . .'"
Now the pair of you, Goddard thought grimly, can have a taste of your own medicine. "Might I remind you, Mr Aitken, that plotting against a superior officer, removing him from his command, or even talking of doing so, is a breach of that Article, and no one is disputing that Captain Shirley was the superior of all the officers in the King's service in that convoy."
And that, you impudent Scot, Goddard thought, reminds you that you are as guilty as your blasted commanding officer: you helped him and if you were brought to trial and found guilty (as you surely would) the noose would go round your neck too.
"Aye, sir," Aitken said, "but there's a phrase in that Article you didn't read, though - about 'such superior officer being in the execution of his office'. Captain Shirley had no 'office' connected with the convoy."
"Don't be impudent," Goddard snapped. "He was the superior officer by virtue of his seniority in the Navy List, and that's all that matters." And before Aitken had time to argue that point Goddard said triumphantly: "Now we come to Article twenty - if any person in the Fleet shall conceal any traiterous or mutinous practice or design ... he shall suffer death.' Later the same Article refers to concealing 'words, traiterous or mutinous, spoken to the prejudice of His Majesty or tending to the hindrance of the service . . .'"
Goddard noted to himself that the whippersnapper had no answer to that and hurriedly went on to the next Article.
"Article twenty-two says that if any officer, mariner, soldier or other person in the Fleet, shall strike any of his superior officers, or draw, or offer to draw, or lift up any weapon against him . . .' then if found guilty that person shall be sentenced to death, and of course the same article deals with anyone disobeying lawful commands."
Goddard could not resist turning round and wagging an admonitory finger. "Mr Aitken, firing a gun comes in the same category as 'lift up any weapon', of course."
"Of course," agreed Aitken, "but in this case the senior officer, fired a broadside at thejunior one."
Goddard was quick to realize that, having no answer to the slip of his own tongue, it was best to ignore the remark and trust that Jenkins was not putting it in the minutes.
"Now, Mr Aitken, we come to the final Article to the charge, number twenty-three, which says that 'If any person in the Fleet shall quarrel or fight with any other person in the Fleet, or use reproachful or provoking speeches or gestures . . .' and so on."
"Thank you for reading them, sir. Of course I know them by heart but it must be very helpful to yourself as the president to be reminded of the precise wording."
Goddard, brought up in the old school where you were polite and considerate to your superiors, particularly if your promotion depended on them, shut the book with a snap and signalled to Jenkins to carry on with the questioning. In the meantime this wretched fellow Aitken's question about that phrase "another broadside" had been forgotten: he had guessed that nothing would smother it as successfully as reading from the Articles of War.
Then, to Goddard's horror, Jenkins, instead of going on to the next question, repeated the previous one about Aitken's role when the Calypso boarded the Jason, but the deputy judge advocate looked up in time to see Goddard's glare and tried to recover the situation, saying to Aitken: "You have already told the court how Captain Ramage had laid the Calypso alongside the Jason. Go on from that point."
"I led a particular boarding party and climbed over at about the mainchains."
"How were you armed?"
"Cutlass and pistol."
"And Captain Ramage?"
"If you mean 'how was he armed?', I think a cutlass and pistol - little enough when you think we'd just received a broadside."
Ramage almost laughed at the way that Aitken's quiet voice with its Highland lilt had lulled Goddard so that he could make what sounded as though it was going to be an innocent remark in fact be lethal. Lethal, Ramage amended, in a proper trial, but not in this travesty.
Goddard waved at Jenkins. He had learned enough now not to rely on using words with the witness. "Strike out all from 'little enough' - the witness has been warned to respond only to matter relevant to the charges."
Yet as Aitken gave a slight bow in acknowledgement, Goddard felt more than a little uncertainty. They were glib, these young scoundrels, and Jenkins did not seem to understand what was going on.
Jenkins picked up the next slip of paper. "Did you or your men shoot at or in any way attack any of the Jason's ship's company?"
"It wasn't necessary -"
"Answer 'yes' or 'no'," Goddard snapped.
"No," Aitken said, and as Jenkins dipped his pen in the ink before writing down the single word, Aitken added: "The Jason's men had left the 12-pounders and surrendered."
"Out! Out! Strike it out!" Goddard shouted. "Just 'No', that was his answer. Aitken, you've had your last warning."
Jenkins picked up the next slip of paper and, seeing Goddard nod, asked the question. "Did you see Captain Shirley at about this time? And if so, what was he doing?"
"I did, and he was standing abreast the mainmast," Aitken said.
Goddard nodded. The young puppy had at last learned the lesson, although God knows it had taken long enough.
Reading from the next slip, Jenkins asked: "Was Captain Shirley making any threatening gestures towards you or any of the Calypso's boarding party?"
"Oh no," Aitken said, as though shocked at the idea. "He was standing quite alone and watching us." He let Jenkins write down the answer and then added: "I also saw that none of his officers were making any threatening gestures." Goddard nodded - this was more like it: evidence was being given in a proper fashion now. Aitken continued: "In fact I was surprised -" he paused a few moments as Goddard continued nodding, "- because there was not an officer on deck: Captain Shirley was alone, apart from a few midshipmen."
Goddard's brow wrinkled and the six captains sitting with their backs to Aitken swung round and stared. Captain Swinford, without waiting for Goddard's permission, exclaimed: "What do you mean, there were no other officers on deck? You simply mean you did not see them."
"I did not see any, sir," Aitken agreed, and Swinford seemed contented with the reply until Aitken added quietly: "Within minutes I confirmed none was on deck because I found them all locked in the gunroom guarded by a Marine sentry."
"Indeed?" said Swinford, and looked at Goddard, whose face had gone white. The silence in the cabin was broken only by the slapping of wavelets under the Salvador del Mundo's stern, the distant mewing of seagulls, and the scraping of Jenkins's pen.
And that has nailed you, Admiral, Ramage thought. Now Goddard would have to ask questions concerning that evidence, and then there would be a chance of bringing out the details of Shirley's madness.
Goddard rapped the table with his signet ring and a startled Jenkins looked up.
"Read out the question again."
Jenkins again asked whether Shirley had made any threatening gestures.
"Ah yes," Goddard said calmly. "That was the question, and the witness replied that he had not, so the answer is: 'No'. Very well, carry on with Captain Shirley's next question. I have told the witness several times that he must answer the question. The court is not interested in his views on any subject not referred to in the question. We'll be hearing him preaching to us next -" he guffawed at the idea and added, without realizing that the captains were watching him silent and stony-eyed, "- or even giving us his views on naval tactics!" Realizing his joke had fallen flat, he snapped: "Come on, Jenkins, we haven't all night. Next question. But perhaps. Captain Shirley, you have no more questions to ask this witness?"