Stephen walked in slowly and took the oath with particular deliberation, trying to sense the atmosphere of the court: he thus gave the clerk time to catch up with Dalziel’s evidence, and the shrill pen wrote:
Question Did she gain on the Sophie without her studdingsails set?
Answer Yes.
Question by the court Did they seem to sail much faster than you?
Answer Yes, both by and large.
Dr Maturin, surgeon of the Sophie, called and sworn. Question by the court Is the statement you heard made by your captain respecting the loss of the Sophie, correct as far as your observation went?
Answer I think it is.
Question by the court Are you a sufficient judge of nautical affairs to know whether every effort was used to escape from the force that was pursuing the Sophie?
Answer I know very little of nautical affairs, but it appeared to me that every exertion was used by every person on board: I saw the captain at the helm, and the officers and ship’s company at the sweeps.
Question by the court Was you on deck at the time the colours were struck and what distance were the enemy from you at the time of her surrender?
Answer I was on deck, and the Desaix was within musket-shot of the Sophie and was firing at us at the time.
Ten minutes later the court was cleared. The dining-cabin again, and no hesitation about precedence in the doorway this time, for Jack and Mr Daiziel were there: they were all there, and not one of them spoke a word. Could that be laughter in the next room, or did the sound come from the wardroom of the Caesar?
A long pause. A long, long pause: and the marine at the door.
‘If you please, gentlemen.’
They filed in, and in spite of all his years at sea Jack forgot to duck: he struck the lintel of the door with a force that left a patch of yellow hair and scalp on the wood and he walked on, almost blinded, to stand rigidly by his chair.
The clerk looked up from writing the word Sentence, startled by the crash, and then looked down again, to commit the judge-advocate’s words to writing. ‘At a court-martial assembled and held on board His Majesty’s Ship Pompée in Rosia Bay. . . the court (being first duly sworn) proceeded in pursuance of an order from Sir James Saumarez Bart. Rear-Admiral of the Blue and. . . and having examined witnesses on the occasion, and maturely and deliberately considered every circumstance. .
The droning, expressionless voice went on, and its tone was so closely allied to the ringing in Jack’s head that he heard virtually none of it, any more than he could see the man’s face through the watering of his eyes. –
‘. . . the court is of the opinion that Captain Aubrey, his officers and ship’s company used every possible exertion to prevent the King’s sloop from falling into the hands of the enemy: and do therefore honourably acquit them. And they are hereby acquitted accordingly,’ said the judge-advocate, and Jack heard none of it.
The inaudible voice stopped and Jack’s blurred vision saw the black form sit down. He shook his singing head, tightened his jaw and compelled his faculties to return; for here was the president of the court getting to his feet. Jack’s clearing eyes caught Keats’ smile, saw Captain Stirling pick up that familiar, rather shabby sword, holding it with its hilt towards him, while with his left hand he smoothed a piece of paper by the inkwell. The president cleared his throat again in the dead silence, and speaking in a clear, seamanlike voice that combined gravity, formality and cheerfulness, he said, ‘Captain Aubrey: it is no small pleasure to me to receive the commands of the court I have the honour to preside at, that in delivering to you your sword, I should congratulate you upon its being restored by both friend and foe alike; hoping ere long you will be called upon to draw it once more in the honourable defence of your country.’
The End