The only problem arose when some unusual circumstance did not fit into the intricate structure of obedience which had been built up over the centuries. The structure had been modified by various Acts of Parliament from time to time; it was the best that men could contrive - up to now, anyway. As far as the Navy was concerned, it had one defect which either no one had noticed or (more likely) no one in authority would admit existed, yet that defect although small could eventually threaten the whole structure.
It was this defect, or flaw, which had trapped Ramage, and it was, quite simply, that there was no way that a captain of a ship of war could lawfully be removed from his command at sea by his officers if he went mad, lapsed into alcoholism, broke his back and could not leave his bunk or in some other way became unfit to command unless the surgeon was prepared to give his opinion in writing that the captain was unfit to command. Few surgeons would risk the consequences, and anyway the Jason's surgeon was dead by the time his opinion was wanted. So the defect or flaw in the Admiralty's command structure became a gaping hole in the case of the Jason on that July day.
Still, there was only one question now remaining in Ramage's mind, and that was why none of the Jason's officers or seamen would admit that she had fired a broadside at the Calypso. Goddard would block the question which, he recalled, led to another: why would none of the officers discuss the reason or even admit they were locked in the gunroom when the Calypsos boarded? Which brought a third question: why would none of the officers discuss the possibility of Shirley being mad with the very captain who was rescuing them from a madman?
So why the hell prolong the trial and give Goddard any more satisfaction? It was not Shirley's fault - he was mad and not responsible for his actions. The captains forming the court did not realize what they faced and could not be told enough - except by the very evidence that Goddard had prevented being given.
Come to think of it, those captains (like Ramage himself) must wonder why the Jason's officers stayed stubbornly silent if they honestly thought Shirley was really mad. Yet that silence alone could be enough reason for them finding Captain Ramage guilty as charged ...
How and why had he become involved in all this, he asked himself bitterly. Why had he removed Shirley from his command - because he would be back commanding the Jason as soon as the trial was over. Why had he freed the Jason's lieutenants - because now not one of them would speak a word even to help their rescuer.
Ramage looked at Goddard and the man's weak, sagging face made him angry. So did the thought of Shirley, and the Jason's lieutenants, who were behaving like sycophantic poltroons.
"Yes, sir, I am ready to present my case," he heard himself saying. "Could the first witness on my list be called?"
The first witness was Aitken, who strode into the cabin to be reminded by Jenkins that he was still on oath and therefore need not be sworn again.
The deputy judge advocate looked questioningly at Ramage, who shook his head. "I do not have my questions written out."
"In that case," Goddard said quickly, having seen that Ramage was not holding any sheets of paper, "you will write them out and ask them through me."
Oh no. Ramage decided: he had put up with enough in the trial so far and he was making a defence only because Goddard, Shirley and the wretched lieutenants had irritated him. "If you'll pardon me, sir, that is not required in the court-martial statutes; writing down questions has simply become a habit in some courts to save time."
"Nevertheless, you'll write down each question and pass it to me to ask."
Ramage took a deep breath and stared straight at Goddard. "In that case, sir, I have no defence to offer, and I insist that this dialogue be recorded in the minutes."
"You can't insist on anything," Goddard sneered. "You are the prisoner on trial for your life."
Swinford said unexpectedly: "Sir, as the senior of the captains forming this court - of which you are president - I must insist that Captain Ramage's request be granted. He has decided not to offer a defence because you insist on examining his interrogatories and asking them yourself. Your decision and his are both part of the trial and must be recorded. And if you'll forgive me, sir, Captain Ramage is correct about the court-martial statutes. This business of written interrogatories started to help deputy judge advocates write the minutes. In fact, it is bad because it gives a dishonest witness plenty of time to think of a way to prevaricate. We must remember the courts were set up to administer justice, not the comfort and convenience of deputy judge advocates."
Goddard was quick enough to know he was beaten on that point, and with a defensive half-smile at all the captains he said: "Of course, of course. I was simply trying to speed up the proceedings: we are now in our second day and only just beginning the defence." He turned to Ramage, his smile twisted and artificial, like the powder daubed on the face of a raddled old trull.
"Mr Aitken," Ramage said, "you have already deposed that during July last you were the last lieutenant of the Calypso, and now I want you to tell the court what you consider to be the beginning of the series of circumstances which has led to you appearing here as a witness in my trial."
Ramage looked round at Goddard. He had worked very carefully on that question because basically it asked an officer for his professional opinion on a relevant subject. Goddard could not object that the question had nothing to do with the charge or witness. But Ramage could see that as Jenkins wrote down the question, while he waited for the answer Goddard was trying to see what hidden significance might lie behind it.
Aitken saw Jenkins' pen stop moving and said: "Sighting a sail to windward which afterwards proved to be the Jason, sir."
"What in your view was the situation of the Calypso, with a strange sail sighted to windward?"
"Because the Calypso was escorting a large West Indian convoy, sir, she had to take immediate steps to be ready to defend the ships if necessary."
Goddard interrupted. "Pray tell me what has all this to do with the charges against you, Mr Ramage?"
"Only this, sir," Ramage said, not troubling to hide the sarcasm in his voice, "I am charged over matters concerning the Jason frigate and Captain Shirley. It seems relevant to my defence to introduce both of them."
Both Captain Swinford and, sitting opposite him, Captain Huggins, simultaneously coughed. Goddard glanced at each of them and then nodded to Ramage. "Carry on, then."
"Mr Aitken, what steps were taken that immediately concerned you, or which you initiated yourself?"
"Acting on your orders, I had the drummer beat to quarters. I then asked you for the day's challenge, and as soon as you gave it to me, I had the appropriate flags hoisted, along with our pendant numbers."
"You did not order any alteration of course or sail trimming?"
"No, sir. While I was attending to my duties, the master gave the orders which started us stretching up to windward."
So far, so good, Ramage thought. Goddard has at last woken up to the fact that some of the members of the court are concerned that the trial should be conducted according to the court-martial statutes. That did not mean they were on his side, but at least it hinted that they would listen to evidence fairly and give a verdict based on it. Yet, yet, yet. . . Would Goddard suddenly change his aim? No, there was no chance of that.
"What did you do after that?"
"I was concerned first with identifying the strange sail, and having done that, taking the appropriate steps to meet her."