drew up before the gates of the Cartwright estate.
Clinton looked at her face. It was completely bloodless, even her lips were ivory white and quivering with suppressed emotion.
I know how you feel. After all we endured, to see that monster sail away. I share your distress, ' he said quietly, but she shook her head once vehemently and then was still again. I have other news, he told her when at last he judged she had recovered, and a little colour had returned to her cheeks. There is a Rear-Admiral on the passenger list of the East Indiaman that anchored in the bay yesterday. Slogger Kemp has asked him to make up the numbers at the court-martial. It begins tomorrow.'
Immediately she turned to face him, her expression softening with concern and alarm. Oh, I will pray for you every moment. ' She reached out her hand impulsively, and he seized it with both of his, and clung to it.
It was as though the contact had loosened something in her that she had locked away tightly and at last the tears welled up in her hot dry eyes.
Oh my dear Doctor Ballantyne, Clinton whispered. Please do not fret for me. ' But through the tears Robyn was still seeing the ghostly image of a tall and beautiful ship fading away into the pearly curtain of sea fret, and the first sob shook her body.
The floor of the ballroom of Admiralty House was laid out in chessboard squares of black and white marble, and the human characters like chess pieces were ranged upon it haphazard, as though by the vagaries of a hard-fought end-game.
Robyn Ballantyne in skirt and blouse of sober green stood by the head of the board, a solitary queen, while arranged opposite her were the rooks of the legal council: two naval officers in full uniform and sword who were playing the roles of prosecutor and defender. They had been chosen arbitrarily, and neither of them relished the unfamiliar task.
They had isolated themselves from the rest of the company, and each of them busied himself with the sheaf of documents he carried, not looking at the man who they were destined to save or condemn, depending on the deliberations of the senior officers who were even now closeted behind the tall double doors at the far end of the ballroom.
The other witnesses, Denham of Black Joke bearing the ship's log under his arm, MacDonald the engineer hiding his grey coal-stained hands behind his back, the colony's agent and Honorary Consul for the Sheikh of Omani, a prosperous Asian trader, were like the scattered pawns of the game around the edge of the board.
Only the officer accused and on trial for his life was not at rest. Captain Clinton Codrington paced at random about the ballroom floor, his heels clicking on the marble slabs, his cocked hat clasped under one arm, his pale blue eyes staring dead ahead. He paced without pattern like the roving knight of the chess board.
The tension seemed to charge even this huge room, increasing rather than lessening with every minute. Only the two red-coated marines on each side of the double doors seemed totally unaffected.
They stood stolidly, their musket butts grounded beside the polished toe caps of their right boots, their expressions blank and their eyes fixed directly ahead.
Once Clinton stopped in front of Robyn and drew his watch.
Fifty minutes, he said.
It could be hours yet, she answered quietly. I can never thank you for the evidence you gave. 'It was nothing but the truth. Yes, he agreed.
'But without it-' He broke off, and resumed his restless pacing.
The prosecuting officer who had attempted for the two previous days to damn him and send him to the gallows, glanced up at Clinton, and then hurriedly, almost guiltily, returned his eyes to the documents he held in his right hand. Robyn was the only one who watched him openly, and her eyes were dark with worry and concern, yet when he caught her eye again a few minutes later, she smiled at him bravely, trying to hide her doubts.
The four senior officers, before whom she had given her evidence, had listened attentively, but she had seen no warmth nor compassion in their faces. Madam, ' Admiral Kemp had asked her at the end, 'is it true that you obtained a medical degree by impersonating a man, and if your answer is 'Yes', would you not then believe us justified in doubting your allegiance to the truth?
Robyn had seen the faces of the senior officers flanking Kemp harden, their eyes become remote. The Sultan's agent had been blatantly hostile, as the prosecuting officer had led him dutifully through a long list of aggressions and warlike acts against his master's sovereign territory and against his subjects.
Denham and MacDonald could only recite the facts, and their own repudiation of their Captain's orders was recorded in the ship's logbook.
The only thing that surprised Robyn was that the court had deliberated so long, and then she started involuntarily as, with a crash that echoed around the walls of the empty ballroom, the double doors were thrown open, and the two marine guards stamped to attention.
Through the doors she could see the naval officers seated down the length of the long dining-room table facing the ballroom. Their fragging and epaulettes gleamed with gold lace and Robyn was too far to be certain of their expressions. Though she took a step forward and craned to see the polished top of the table in front of the grim line of judges, she could not be certain of the hilt and point of the single weapon that lay upon it, and then her view was blocked by the backs of the three men who lined up facing the doors.
Clinton was in the centre with the prosecution and the defending officers flanking him. At a muttered command, they marched briskly through the open doors. The doors closed behind the trio, and still Robyn could not know which way the naval dirk on the table was pointing, whether it was in its sheath or if the blade was naked.
Clinton had explained to her the significance of that weapon. it was only placed upon the table when the judges had reached their decision. If the blade was sheathed, and if the hilt was pointed towards the prisoner when he entered, then the judgement was 'not guilty, .
When the bare blade was pointed towards him, then he knew that the wrath of the service was about to descend upon him, and he might be called to pay his penalty upon the flogging grating, or upon the gallows itself.
Clinton kept his gaze fixed upon a point above Admiral Kemp's head, while the doors were banged closed behind him, and he and the officers flanking him came to attention five paces from the long polished table behind
