Ramage's Trial (29 page)

“That rumour-which-is-not-a-rumour is not the only one,” Yorke said. “I hear that our old friend Goddard is the rear-admiral here. Does that mean…?”

As Ramage nodded, Alexis exclaimed: “Goddard? Who is this Goddard? Why do the pair of you have such long faces? Are you frightened of him?”

“Yes and no,” Ramage said, and quietly explained to her how Goddard had entered his life, toadying to the old ministers and currying favour by attacking the Earl of Blazey's son.

“Sidney,” Alexis said firmly. “We let the
Emerald
sail tomorrow with the convoy, and we move on shore to an inn. The King's Arms, I think; I refuse to stay at the Prince George
–
I dislike Foxhole Street and the place is always full of noisy shipmasters and foreigners.”

Yorke agreed but warned that after so many weeks at sea, it would take a few days to find their land legs.

Alexis pointed at the papers on Ramage's desk. “Why are you so sure that this Goddard man will preside at the trial?”

“In Plymouth there is a port admiral,” Ramage explained. “He is Vice-Admiral Sir James Bustard. I know nothing about him except he's getting on in years. He has a house
–
just near Mount Wise and the Telegraph, and just across the Parade from Government House.

“Then there is a rear-admiral, who is the second-in-command. His main purpose in life is to preside at courts-martial. In a big port like Plymouth there are trials almost every day and they're held on board the
Salvador del Mundo
, an old prize which is well suited for the purpose.”

“Trials almost every day?” Alexis exclaimed. “But what
for
?”

“Don't forget that a 74-gun ship (most of the ships you see here larger than frigates are seventy-fours) has at least seven hundred men on board, and the frigates about two hundred each. So take half a dozen seventy-fours and you have more than four thousand men. If only half a dozen of them desert, get drunk and start a brawl and hit an officer or mutter treasonable phrases in their cups
–
well, that makes half a dozen courts-martial a day!”

“Not to mention captains who misbehave out in the Atlantic and come in here to be punished,” Alexis added mischievously.

“Indeed not,” Ramage agreed gravely. “Poor Rear-Admiral Goddard must be a much overworked man.”

“It's a pity you have to add to his burden.”

Ramage laughed and said wryly: “I am sure he will think he's doing me a favour.”

Sidney Yorke, who had remained unsmiling as Ramage and Alexis teased each other, asked quietly: “Am I being indiscreet in asking what you are charged with
–
and by whom?”

Ramage sorted out the papers on the desk and passed them to Yorke. “They're in order now. When you've read them all, you'll know as much about this as I do.”

Alexis look questioningly and Ramage nodded. “Of course you can read them too.”

“They'll make a change from the Paston letters which you lent me and which I've nearly finished. Not that I haven't found them fascinating, but I didn't know the Pastons and I do know you!”

She waited a few moments and then said quietly: “Why don't you come with us and stay at the inn? You have not slept on shore since–”

She just prevented herself putting a hand to her mouth, a gesture which in other women always irritated her, but there was no way she could recall the words. Ramage said easily: “Since Bonaparte's men chased us out of Jean-Jacques' château near Brest. No, but a captain may not sleep out of his ship without the port admiral's permission. That is just for a night. For longer, he needs permission from the Admiralty.”

“And for the moment you do not want to ask favours of anyone.”

Ramage nodded. “Anyway, I have plenty to do
–
lists of witnesses, draw up my defence, and so on.”

“And rally your friends,” Alexis added.

“A naval officer on trial for his life in these circumstances has no friends,” Ramage said with unintended bitterness, and was startled to see Alexis' eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

“That is not true,” she said quietly.

He said gently: “I spoke clumsily. Yes, I have friends. Very few, and of those the Yorkes are the most valued. I thought you meant that I should rally my friends in the Service, and I meant that I have none but in any case at a time like this, with a man like Goddard involved, anyone in the Service is well advised to keep away. In fact I'd tell him to!”

“But what about Aitken, and Southwick, and Bowen–?”

“Oh dear,” Ramage said. “I sound ungrateful but I'm simply tactless. I'm conceited enough to assume that all the Calypsos, like the Yorkes, are on my side. When I said I was on my own, I really meant
we
–
the Yorkes and the Calypsos
–
can't look round for friends.”

“But,” Alexis said chidingly, “you forget the masters who were in the convoy, and surely the Count of Rennes and your father and father-in-law will help?”

“The Count saw nothing that you didn't, so there's no way he can help, and anyway he's probably on his way to London by coach. My father and the Marquis are stunned by Sarah's disappearance. I'm not going to add to their troubles.”

Sidney said suddenly, an impatient note in his voice: “Think, girl! The Count is a friend of the Prince of Wales, and this wretched man Goddard is one of Prinny's favourites. Nicholas wouldn't dream of putting Jean-Jacques in such an awkward position.”

“I would,” Alexis said stoutly, “and Prinny too, if I thought the Prince of Wales' presence would make sure justice was done.”

“You'll be sent to bed without any supper,” Yorke said in a mock warning, and then turned to Ramage and said: “These Articles of War that Shirley's charging you under
–
what penalties do they entail?”

“Some leave it up to the court; guilty verdicts with others call for death, without any option.”

There was the hissing of silk against silk and a gentle thump as Alexis fainted and slid out of the chair, and as he jumped up to go to her, Ramage noticed she had the most shapely legs.

“I should have left her on board,” Yorke said, “but I'd have had to lock her in. She's taking all this business very seriously.”

“So am I,” Ramage said dryly. “Ah, she's coming round…”

“You're on board the
Calypso
and everything is all right,” Yorke said hastily, and Ramage realized the hurried words were in case the dazed girl said something which might cause embarrassment. He asked her if she wanted a drink of water but she shook her head and Ramage was relieved. There was no need for a Marine sentry and his steward Silkin to know that Miss Yorke had fainted. That was the trouble with fainting
–
it could be caused by anything from a shock to pregnancy, from “vapours”, intended to attract attention, to real illness.

 

Aitken and Southwick looked at Ramage, waiting for his answer, and the first lieutenant still held the list from which he had been reading.

“Wagstaffe
–
yes, I can't see how I can avoid calling him
–
he'll be called by the prosecution anyway. But I need only one of the
Calypso
's officers
–
he can give evidence about the challenge, lack of reply and being fired on.”

“Yes, well, that's why I put my name at the top of the list,” Aitken said. “But all the rest can and will substantiate that.”

“Look,” Ramage said firmly, “whoever gives evidence on my behalf will be a marked man in the Service from then on, so I want only one person.”

Southwick sniffed: it was his “I don't care what you say, I'm going my way” sniff and Ramage tried to look at him sternly, but the old master simply grinned. “It'll be all or none, sir. No one is going to be left out. Or if you try to make do with just one of us, then that person'll be like the Jasons. Saw nothing, heard nothing.”

“But there's no
need
,” Ramage said. “Aitken, don't you see that giving evidence on my behalf will probably mean you'll never be made post?”

Aitken shrugged his shoulders. “Sir, thanks to you by way of prize money, I'd pass for a wealthy man in the Highlands. If what you say is true, I'll find myself a bonny bride and a middling sized estate, and if I never go to sea again I've tales enough to tell a dozen grandchildren
–
aye, and never the same tale twice!”

“That's how everyone feels, sir,” Southwick said. “You've looked after them in the smoke of battle, and they're going to look after you–” he paused searching for the right phrase, failed to find it and ended lamely, “–well, at a time like now. They see you're in more danger from our own folk than the French, and that's enough for them.”

“How do they know?”

“Too late to complain sir,” Southwick chuckled, “but every man on board knows the six Articles of War that Captain Shirley is citing, and even now there's a copy of the
Articles of War
being passed hand to hand on the lowerdeck. The men were complaining that they only ever heard the Articles read out to them on the quarterdeck, and they wanted
–
those that can read
–
a chance to study 'em.”

Ramage knew he was helpless to protect his officers from the price they would pay for their loyalty. Aitken, Wagstaffe, Kenton, Martin and Orsini: he had let them down. Southwick and Bowen were different
–
Bowen only continued serving in the Navy as a surgeon in order to stay with Southwick and Ramage himself: Southwick, like Aitken, had plenty in the Funds from prize money and had reached the age when retirement might seem welcome.

It had all started with a lookout sighting a sail on the horizon and he had decided to investigate it. If only he had ignored it
–
they had seen several others that day. At least he had not sent off
L'Espoir
or
La Robuste
: he shivered at the thought of the problems that would have arisen if the
Jason
had raked one of them.

Anyway, Aitken had the list of witnesses, and that was that! Then he remembered: “There are two more names to add to your list.”

Aitken got up and sat at the desk, reached for a quill and taking the cap off the inkwell, said: “Yes, sir?”

“Mr Sidney Yorke, who will be staying at the King's Arms, in Britonside, and Miss Yorke, at the same address.”

“Ah,” said Southwick, “They're with us all right, then?”

“Yes. The
Emerald
sails for London with the convoy tomorrow, but they're staying for the trial. What evidence they can give, I don't know, but Miss Yorke should make an impression on the court!”

“She certainly makes an impression on me!” Southwick said. “And I'd sooner have her brother on our side than against us.”

Ramage said: “I've been thinking about the masters of the merchant ships. I don't think we need any as witnesses. The captain of
L'Espoir
–
he won't have seen what happened. The
Jason
's first lieutenant, gunner and the cook's mate–”

“Cook's mate, sir?” Aitken could not believe his ears.

“Who better? Cook's mates are usually the most stupid men in any ship, and he has nothing to lose. More important, he probably has little understanding. But he will know if the ship fired a broadside or not.”

“Shirley's fellows will get to him before the trial and tell him what to say,” Southwick declared gruffly.

“Perhaps
–
in fact no doubt will. But if the man gets muddled enough in court, we might get some truth out of him.”

“Truth isn't going to get a look in,” Southwick said.

“No,” Ramage agreed, “I doubt it. So we'll be as brief as we can. Few witnesses, few questions…The briefer the trial, the less time the other side have to gloat.”

Aitken looked worried and he shook his head. “You don't seem to consider the question of being acquitted, sir.”

“I've considered it,” Ramage said, his voice neutral. “I'd like to be cleared, if only for my father's sake. But over there–” he gestured vaguely to the northwest, towards Cornwall, “–lies my home, with enough land to keep me occupied for the rest of my life. And over there–” he gestured seaward, “–is the answer to the question of whether I am a widower or a married man. Those are the two most important things in my life, and what lies in between
–
a trial on board the
Salvador del
Mundo
next Monday
–
doesn't seem of so much consequence at the moment.”

“Even tho' it could result in a sentence of death,” Southwick said sharply.

“Right now I haven't a devil of a lot to live for,” Ramage said bitterly. “My mother and father can't live forever, and I don't fancy wandering round St Kew Hall without Sarah for the rest of my life. It's a dam' big house and there are plenty of tenants on the land, and whoever runs it should have
–
well, some zest, and a wife, and that's what I lack now.”

“Sir,” said Southwick, “I'm going to presume on the length of my service with you and unless you order me not to, I'm going to speak my mind freely. I've talked it over with Mr Aitken, and to be honest, sir, you're worrying us, so what I have to say
–
if you'll allow me to say it
–
goes for both of us.”

Ramage smiled and nodded. “I've never known you to ask permission before, but go on…”

“Well, sir, you've done more for King and country than most men, but apart from some of your despatches being published in the
London Gazette
, you've had no recognition and there are a lot of senior officers jealous of you. All that's normal. It took long enough for Their Lordships to give Lord Nelson his first real chance: those dam'd Antigua merchants nearly did for his career right at the start, when he went for 'em in the last war.”