Roscarrock turned back to the young man. “Accepting the stay ropes on the cannon were tampered with in the way you suggest and for the purpose of causing the death of Lieutenant Jardine, and leaving aside the opportunity of that action, the surgeon is right-Lieutenant Jardine was not a popular officer on this ship. Any member of the crew could have done this. Even one of your fellow midshipmen.”
Hart raised his eyebrows in protest.
“Yes,” went on Roscarrock, before he could speak. “I know all about the punishments that Lieutenant Jardine handed out.”
One of the spiteful punishments that Jardine liked to order was having the master-of-arms inflict floggings on midshipmen who fell foul of his temper. They were made to “kiss the gunners daughter”: that was, they were stretched over the barrel of a cannon and beaten with a birch stick. “The gunners daughter” was naval slang for a cannon.
Roscarrock modulated his tone to speak in a friendly, reasonable fashion. “Look, Hart, most of the ship’s company will not shed a tear when Jardine”-he gestured to the body under the tarpaulin-”is tipped over the side. One-fifth of the ship’s company are pressed men. Jardine was commander of the press-gang at Chatham. There’s vengeance in their minds. And, as for the rest…” Roscarrock shrugged. “Better to forget the reason why; his family will rest more comfortably knowing that he died doing his duty.”
Midshipman Hart stood his ground. A look of stubbornness seemed to fill the features of the young midshipman. “Sir, my father is a parson, and I was raised to believe in truth and justice. I cannot agree to such a subterfuge. If a man has been murdered, then his killer must be found.”
Roscarrock sighed wearily. “If you must, pursue this matter, Mr. Hart. I see no purpose in it when there are a dozen other dead and dying to be accounted for in this engagement and probably more of us will die before we reach our home port again.”
“I would like to pursue my inquiry, sir,” the young man insisted stubbornly.
“Who is the gun captain of number six, portside?” Roscarrock demanded ominously after a short pause. “Pass the word for him. Perhaps we can settle the matter now.”
The gun captain was a muscular seaman in his late thirties. He stood nervously before them.
“How do you explain this, Evans?” demanded Roscarrock, a hand encompassing the gun and the body.
Evans shrugged slightly. “Ain’t got no explanation, sir,” he muttered. “The stay ropes jest snapped, and the cannon went straight back into the lieutenant. Broke the rammer’s foot as it jolted over it.”
The rammer was the man who stood by ready to ram wad and shot into the barrel.
“Did anyone notice that the stay ropes were frayed before you put your match to the gun?”
Evans shook his head vehemently. “The Frenchie was upon us and firing, sir. We just loaded with shot and waited for the order to fire.”
“Please, sir…,” Midshipman Hart intervened, indicating that he wished to ask a question.
Roscarrock nodded his assent.
“Where were you when we beat to quarters, Evans?”
The gun captain shifted his weight from one foot to another. “We were already on our way up from the lower deck. We’d heard the first cry that a Frenchie had been sighted, and so we came running for the gun deck, knowing a fight was in the offing. While we were running up, we heard the drum start beating to quarters.”
“And when did Lieutenant Jardine arrive?”
“Why, he was already at his station and cursing us for our slowness, though ‘twas unfair, as we were one of the first guns ready and run out, begging your pardon, sir. However, I do swear he was on the gun deck before we sighted the Frenchie.”
“You are sure about that? There was no time for anyone else to be on the gun deck at your gun between the sighting of the Frenchman and the arrival of Lieutenant Jardine?”
“The master’s mate was with him, sir.”
“Pass the word for the masters mate,” called Roscarrock to a passing seaman. Then he turned back to the gun captain. “What happened then?”
“There came the command from yourself, sir.” Evans glanced nervously at Roscarrock. “Lieutenant Jardine relayed your order to fire when our guns began to bear. The Frenchje got in a first shot that smashed number-two gun and killed the crew ‘fore they had time to fire. Then we fired and… well, you know what happened.”
Roscarrock dismissed the man with a wave of his hand just as the master’s mate arrived. “Were you on the gun deck before we beat to quarters?”
The grizzled veteran frowned at his captain. “That I was. I accompanied Lieutenant Jardine, who wanted to inspect the readiness of the gun deck. We were here a full ten minutes before we beat to quarters. Then I went directly to my station, leaving the lieutenant here.”
“That is all,” dismissed Roscarrock, turning to the midshipman. “Well, Mr. Hart, your theory seems to be flawed. If Lieutenant Jardine was already on the gun deck when we sighted the Frenchman, how could anyone have cut the stay ropes with the intent to kill him before the gun crews came into action?”
Midshipman Hart was evidently trying to fathom this out. His face brightened. “Unless the stay ropes were cut beforehand.”
Roscarrock chuckled cynically. “Are you telling me that whoever cut them was foresighted? A fortune-teller? That he cut the ropes with the premonition that we would shortly be in action and Jardine would be standing in that position? Why, we might have gone this entire voyage without firing a shot in anger-”
“That’s it! cried the young man excitedly. “Not in anger, not firing a shot in anger…”
Roscarrock regarded him with perplexity. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you recall last night, sir? You called all officers to your cabin and said that there would be a gunnery drill some time this morning to check our efficiency. That explains why Lieutenant Jardine was already on the gun deck before we sighted the Frenchman. He was ensuring his guns were in readiness.”
“I don’t follow.”
“All the officers knew that gunnery drill would take place. And every officer was told to ensure no crew member knew this so that it was to be a good measure of their efficiency. Even Surgeon Smithers was at the officers’ call when you announced the drill.”
“Are you now saying that one of my officers is responsible for Jardine’s death? That knowing the gunnery drill was ordered and also knowing where Jardine’s station was, they cut through the stay ropes and waited for the drill?”
“I am saying that one of the officers on this ship is responsible for his murder, sir. Only the officers knew of the impending gunnery drill and had time to tamper with the ropes.”
Roscarrock pursed his lips. “I think that your argument is rather far-fetched. But”-he raised a hand to interrupt the midshipman’s protest-”I’ll not gainsay your wish to make further inquiries. Remember that you are making serious charges, Mr. Hart. I will not record our conversations in the log until you come to me with evidence. Now, I am afraid that I have other pressing matters to attend to.”
Returning to the quarterdeck, Roscarrock found his first lieutenant, Gervaise, issuing orders to the ship’s carpenter.
He stiffened slightly as the captain approached, and dismissed the craftsman. “There’s still some rigging tackle in a dangerous condition on the mainmast by the crow’s nest. We won’t be able to clear it until we get in port waters. The Frenchie was using some chain shot to try to dismast us. It’s still lodged up there. We’ll have to use the mizzentop lookout position.”
“Very well. What about the foremast?”
“The master’s mate is overseeing the jury rig now. It’ll mean a new sail there. We can be under way within half an hour.”
Roscarrock glanced around at the enshrouding fog. “Unless it’s my imagination, this fog is thinning. Lets hope the Frenchie hasn’t stuck around to find out what has happened to us. We won’t have the speed to outrun him without full sails.”