"'Defeat' is pitching it a bit strong," Sidney protested but Ramage shook his head.
"I don't know about you," he admitted, "but I was feeling defeated. I couldn't - still can't, for that matter - see a way of getting round Goddard, and only two or three of the captains seemed prepared to argue over all that deleted evidence. Three votes out of twelve means an almost unanimous verdict of guilty, particularly since the junior captains vote first."
"The junior vote first?" Alexis was puzzled.
"When all the evidence has been heard and the prosecution and defence have stated their cases," Ramage explained, "the president of the court (after it has been cleared of everyone except the members) asks each member whether or not he considers the accused is guilty or not. He asks the most junior captain first, and then the next most junior, and so on. The theory is that the juniors give their opinions without being influenced by the seniors, but he'd be a mutton-headed officer who reached the end of a trial without seeing or guessing his seniors' views."
"Well," Alexis continued, "your father thought you seemed to feel defeated, and so did I and," she added with a grim laugh, "the opinions of the two of us carried a lot of weight in Palace Street.
"Then the fireworks started. Your father had been fairly calm until then: your mother could control him, in other words. But when I told him young Blaxton's story he swore and swore. I must say that as soon as your mother reproved him - she was concerned for my young ears - he changed to Italian, which I don't speak, but even then his meanings were quite clear since I read Latin."
She described how by then the room was beginning to spin because she was so tired, and the Countess had insisted that she had some sleep. In fact she slept for nine hours and when she woke and washed she rushed downstairs in a panic - to find that the Earl, Sarah's father the Marquis of Rockley, and Sir James Blaxton, with the young midshipman, had already been along to the Admiralty and waited on Earl St Vincent.
"Your father says the First Lord is dour, the sort of man who is miserly with words. Lord St Vincent made it quite clear he could not interfere with the court-martial, apart from delaying it for a week, to give us time to discuss it, but what he could do was make sure that all the legitimate evidence - your father says he laid great stress on that phrase 'legitimate evidence' - should be heard and recorded in the minutes."
Yorke said bitterly: "How can that be done with Goddard sitting there?"
"Wait a moment, Sidney," she said. "It seems that the First Lord is a worldly man and he acted as though there was no point in sending orders to the port admiral here in Plymouth. The inference was (although Lord St Vincent did not put it into words, of course) that Goddard probably influenced him. All that was needed, the First Lord said, was someone in authority making sure that the trial was conducted properly, and that is why he delayed it a week."
Yorke groaned. "You don't mean to say that after all your efforts, you left it like that and came back here?"
She nodded and Ramage guessed that Sidney Yorke had underestimated his sister. Perhaps brothers always did because the important impressions were made during childhood. But Sidney was not only underestimating his sister, he was underestimating the Earl of Blazey, the Marquis and Sir James Blaxton. And come to that, the Countess of Blazey as well.
"Sidney, there are times when I could shake you." The exasperation showed in Alexis's voice. "It seems to me that this man Goddard has bewitched you. Well, he hasn't bewitched me; he's just made me very angry. And he's had the same effect on Nicholas's parents, the Marquis and Sir James Blaxton - and perhaps Earl St Vincent, but I wasn't present."
She rearranged her hair, a womanly gesture that Ramage found quite beguiling.
"So this is what has been arranged. By chance one of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty (Nicholas's father says he's one of the officers most highly regarded by Earl St Vincent) was at Portsmouth. He is Captain John Markham, son of the Archbishop of York. Do you know him, Nicholas?"
Ramage shook his head. "Only by sight and reputation: he's a well respected officer. It's not often captains are made sea lords, and Earl St Vincent neither suffers fools gladly nor plays favourites. He must have advanced Markham because he is competent."
"Good. Well, Captain Markham was in Portsmouth on some Admiralty business, and the First Lord immediately wrote to him and sent the letter to Portsmouth in the night bag - apparently the messenger leaves in the evening and gets to Portsmouth early next day. Captain Markham was told to get to Plymouth by any means he chose, but he had to be on board the Salvador del Mundo by half past eight next Monday - that's tomorrow morning - and sit as the First Lord's observer at your trial."
Ramage nodded, scarcely able to believe his ears. "That's all we need," he muttered. "Just a fair hearing." He rubbed the scars on his brow. "Just a fair hearing," he repeated. "No more, and no less."
"You're going to get that," Alexis said. "And I've brought Midshipman Blaxton back with me: he's staying at the King's Arms. I've told him to be waiting at the North Corner in the Dockyard at four o'clock, when you'll send a boat for him. You can talk to him and he'll be ready to give evidence tomorrow. Oh yes. Lord St Vincent has told Captain Markham not to wear uniform. I gather that Rear-Admiral Goddard does not know him by sight, so he's unlikely to recognize him sitting among the spectators in court, and that's so much the better, as far as Lord St Vincent is concerned."
"Dinner," Sidney Yorke said. "Nicholas, you are the host and my sister looks exhausted."
"I am too sleepy to eat," Alexis said. "Can I sleep here for an hour or two while you dine, then I can go back with Sidney? I'd like to be here to introduce young Blaxton."
Ramage went to the door and told the Marine sentry to pass the word for the captain's steward, and then he went through to the bed place. The cabin in which he slept was tiny and his bed was the usual cot, a long, open-top box fitted into what was in effect a large hammock which was suspended from the deck beams. The box was fitted with a mattress, and he checked that the sheets were clean.
"Two blankets - will they be enough?"
"Plenty - I'm too sleepy to feel the cold. Wake me when my Mr Blaxton arrives."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rear-Admiral Goddard looked at each of the captains seated round the table and noted that there were many more spectators sitting in the chairs and forms at the back of the cabin - among them that wretched young woman who had made such a scene the day he adjourned the court. Jenkins was sitting behind his pile of reference books and papers. He saw that Captain Shirley was sitting in the prosecutor's chair and, as usual, staring fixedly at the deck - like, he thought unexpectedly, a man who had dropped a golden guinea and just seen it roll down a crack between two planks. A seam, he corrected himself.
This should be the last day of the triaclass="underline" Shirley had to make the closing statement for the prosecution; then Ramage had to make his for the defence. Clear the court and let these twelve dunderheads talk about it all, and then, with their verdict returned, twist the sword round so that it pointed to the door, and have Ramage brought back in ...
At last he felt cheerful. Swinford, Royce and Huggins had made a lot of trouble at that last session, after the court had been cleared. Fussing about what should be recorded in the minutes and what should not: they were like a trio of virgins pleading for their honour. But they had eventually submitted. A hint that there were many more captains on the Post List than ships for them to command had been enough: they seemed suddenly to be able to understand the position of unemployed virgins . . .