The procession made its way down the starboard gangway-first a Marine guard, then the prisoner, then the second Marine, and finally the prisoner's friend and brother. Arthur Gladden walked slowly and gravely along the first rank of lobsters, stopping now and then to peer into a face. He came to the end of the first rank, turned, and walked the length of the facing rank, until he had examined every Marine in Vantage's detachment. Concluding with Sergeant Doyle himself, Arthur looked up at the officers of the court-martial as they stood at the quarterdeck rail.
'He's not here,' said Arthur Gladden.
'What d'ye mean 'he's not here'?' Captain Wright barked.
'The man I saw is not one of this detachment, sir. As I think of it now, the man on guard had a most unusual face. The skin had a peculiar coarse, florid quality; his eyes were larger than normal. And his mouth… Well, sir, his mouth looked almost painted. Like a mask. I can see no Marine here with those features. I am sorry, sir.'
'I have an explanation for that, sir,' said Peter Gladden. He spoke on his own, without Hoare's prompting. 'However, I must ask that what follows be heard in… in…' He turned to Hoare for the proper term.
'Yes. In camera.'
'If you expect this court to subject itself to still more harlequinades, Mr. Gladden,' said Captain Wright, 'you will have to convince a very skeptical group of officers, I assure you. Draw nigh, sir-yes, Mr. Hoare, you, too-and explain yourselves.'
Thereupon the officers of the court-martial put their heads together to hear the whispered explanation Hoare and Gladden had prepared for them. Considerable head-shaking and protest followed, especially from the fire- breathing Commander Weatherby. At last Captain Wright rapped sharply on the quarterdeck rail.
'Mr. Hoare, Mr. Gladden,' he said with some asperity, 'I would be happy to let these proceedings run as long as necessary to arrive at a true bill. By doing so, as you pointed out just now, this board would conform with the letter of Admiralty regulations. However, I, like you, am an officer of the Royal Navy. My first duty, like yours, is to marshal all our naval forces as swiftly as may be to the defense of the realm which we serve.
'If, in order that this ship and the five others commanded by the captains on this court may sail with all possible speed to reinforce Lord Nelson, I must hang Mr. Arthur Gladden out of hand tomorrow. I shall do so, sir, be he innocent or guilty.
He will become a casualty, a single casualty out of all too many. But if he dies to let these ships go free, he may save England.
'So this court grants your request to continue these proceedings in camera for the remainder of the day, reconvening here tomorrow at eight bells of the forenoon watch. However, at noon tomorrow, if needs must and even if I hang for it myself, I will direct this court to declare Mr. Arthur Gladden guilty, adjourn this court-martial, and see him hanged.
'Not a minute later than noon tomorrow, therefore, this vessel and those commanded by my fellow captains on this court will have their anchors up and down in preparation for departure. Do you understand, gentlemen?'
The other captains, Arthur Gladden, and his two friends nodded solemnly.
'Very well. The board will now reconvene below. I ask all unofficial persons to withdraw. Your Royal Highness, will you go or stay?'
'I'll stay, sir,' said the duke. 'My presence might even save your necks, what what?'
When the observers had left Defiant and the board had returned to his cabin, Captain Wright turned to Peter Gladden. 'Proceed, sir,' he said.
'When I went ashore from Vantage after questioning some of the witnesses,' said Gladden, 'Mr. Hoare asked me to make a request on his behalf of a certain beachcombing party of his acquaintance. In turn, that person made the request known to his own people. The result was this.' He reached into the portmanteau beside him and withdrew the vile-smelling Royal Marine uniform coat. Its scarlet dye had bled slightly onto its blue facings.
'This coat was fished out of Portsmouth Harbor on Tuesday night last and brought to me and Mr. Hoare. I know every officer in this cabin will recognize it. Upon examining it, Mr. Hoare found certain substances on its collar and cuffs.
'I would like to ask him to tell the court about what he discovered.'
'What I wiped from the collar and cuffs,' whispered Hoare, 'was paint, gentlemen, removable paint. I could even smell it over the tidewater smell. Removable paint, or maquillage, as the Frogs have it, has a distinctive odor, you know.' Hoare paused to fill his chest for his next sentence.
'The man who had worn that coat was wearing maquillage. And I doubt that any member of the ship's Marine contingent would own any of the stuff, let alone know how to use it. No, the man we are looking for has to be an actor-an amateur Thespian, if you will. Now who could that be, I wondered, and why?'
Hoare interrupted himself again, as if preparing for battle.
'It is in the interest of obtaining the answers to those questions that I asked you, Mr. President, to adjourn the court until the time you set for it to reconvene-tomorrow, at eight bells of the morning watch.
'Finally, I suggest that you will find this evening's performance of Mr. Sheridan's› The School for Scandal both interesting and instructive.'
Though the attendants had long since lowered the houselights and lit the footlights, the curtain of Portsmouth's sole theater had yet to rise. The audience, officers and their ladies for the most part but including a sprinkling of townsmen as well, had begun a discontented murmur. Overriding the subdued babble came Prince William's masthead growl from the royal box.
A dainty person in black slipped out from between the curtains. 'In this evening's performance, the part of'Charles Surface' will be played by Mr. Thomas Billings,' he announced. 'The part of'Maria' will be played by Miss Oates.' He slipped back out of sight.
There was a collective sigh of feminine disappointment, for 'Charles,' the romantic lead, was to have been played by Lieutenant Peregrine Kingsley, second in Vantage. As a new widow, Mrs. Hay, of course, could not now tread the boards in the role of 'Maria.'
Hoare snapped his fingers. With a nod to his companions to follow him, he eased himself from his place in the back of the theater and left by the main door. He returned by the stage door, where he sought out the person in black. Tonight's impresario, Mr. DeCourcey, looked as if he should be wringing his hands.
'Where's Kingsley?' Hoare asked.
DeCourcey rolled his eyes and shrugged as eloquently as Mr. Morrow of Weymouth. 'Who knows?' he said. 'Here the man was, as good a juvenile as you could ask for in Drury Lane itself, superb in the part, and he has gone missing.'
'He's bit!' whispered Hoare with a wicked grin. He clapped the distracted DeCourcey on the shoulder so hard as to dislodge the quizzing glass from his left eye. Hoare put his head out the stage door and blew on his silver boatswain's call.
There was a tumult and a shouting in the evening streets of Portsmouth. Some men mounted to take up their mission; others climbed into waiting chaises; still others-these mostly the hard men of the press gang-began their search through the late dusk of June for the missing Kingsley.
Hoare withdrew to his post of command in the Navy Tavern, just off the Hard, to await the outcome. To him, among others, came Mr. Peter Gladden and Mr. Francis Bennett and most of the members of the court-martial, including Captains Wright and Weatherby. Mr. Prickett was already in place, his mouth smeared with somebody's jam.
'Well, Mr. Hoare!' Weatherby cried. 'Your trap seems to have been well designed. My congratulations!'
'Premature, Captain, but I thank you nonetheless,' whispered Hoare, with more than a trifle of envy. He knew very well indeed that, since he would never make post, the only way he could hoist his swab-his epaulette-and earn the courtesy title of 'Captain' was to be made commander.
'How did you do it, sir?' Wright asked.
'I'm afraid it was mostly guesswork, sir,' Hoare replied modestly. 'Guesswork and speculation.'
He and the rest of the company rose at the unannounced entry of H.R.H. Duke of Clarence.
'Be seated, gentlemen, please,' said Prince William. 'D'ye know, if I were ever to succeed to the Throne, I do believe I'd do away with all this risin' for royalty. I've seen too many promisin' naval officers brain 'emselves on the overhead when risin' to give the Loyal Toast.'
