Authors: Hammond Innes
“Well, it’s the truth, sir,” I said. “I acted hastily—but what else could I do?”
“H’m. It makes it very difficult,” he murmured. Then in a coldly matter-of-fact voice, “You see, a Court-Martial always has the question of discipline at the back of its mind. You refused to obey an order. Not only that, but you took upon yourself a decision that only the Captain had a right to make, and when ordered to stop cutting the raft clear, you threatened those who tried to stop you with your rifle. To clear yourselves of such a serious charge of mutiny, you would have to prove that the boat was, in fact, unseaworthy and that, knowing this, the Captain was deliberately trying to prevent the men being given the added safety of a raft. In other words, you would have to convince the Court that the Captain had some sinister motive and was deliberately sending the boat away in an unseaworthy condition, which is clearly fantastic. We needn’t bring it up, but you yourself admit that the second officer, Cousins, was convinced the boat was seaworthy having recently inspected it himself. It’s going to be difficult, you know,” he added. “And I must warn you right away that there’s not much chance of getting an acquittal. About all I can hope to do is get you off with light sentences by emphasising your previous good record and pleading that whether you were, in fact, justified or not, you were acting in good faith in that you felt justified at the time. I’m not sure it wouldn’t be best for you to plead guilty. Would you be prepared to plead guilty, Corporal?”
“Yes,” I said, “if it would look better that way. I certainly am guilty of the charges. But,” I added, “I’m convinced I was justified in what I did. I know it doesn’t sound like that from a disciplinary point of view. But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that there was something wrong somewhere. My uneasiness wasn’t all just imagination. I’m sure of that. But I can’t prove anything. I can’t even say what I suspect. I don’t know. But I’m still convinced there was something wrong.”
He looked at me for a moment probingly. I could see he was trying to make up his mind whether, he should
believe what I had said. At length he said, “You made a statement on board the
Bravado
presumably?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you refer to your suspicions in that?”
“No, sir. You see, when I heard we were the only survivors I thought my suspicions had been groundless.”
He nodded. “Pity,” he said. “A Board of Trade enquiry might have helped your case a lot. And now that you know there were other survivors your suspicion have been revived.”
“Yes, sir.” And then I asked, “Just who was picked up, sir? Have you a list of survivors?”
“Yes,” he said. “I know who the survivors are.” Again that searching look. “Who would you expect to be amongst the survivors?”
My answer was prompt. “Captain Halesy,” I said, “Hendrik, the first officer, Warrant Officer Rankin, Jukes and Evans.”
“Anyone else?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“In other words all those who were left on board after the two boats had got away?”
I nodded.
After a moment he put another question to me. “Who exactly did you know to be on board after the main body had abandoned ship? Who did you actually see on board? Rankin and Halsey, of course. Hendrik, who got the raft alongside. Jukes who hit you. What about Evans—did you actually see him?”
“No,” I said.
“But you think he would be one of the men to go with the Captain in his boat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s extraordinary,” he said. “You’re quite right, Vardy. The list of survivors is exactly as you said—Halsey, Hendrik, Rankin, Jukes and Evans. They were picked up by a minesweeper not far from the Faroes on the 26th of March—twenty-one days after the
Trikkala
went down.”
He sat there swinging his leg for a long time. At length
he slid his body off the table and picked up his hat. “Well,” he said, “I’ll go and sleep on it. I’ll come and see you both to-morrow evening and we’ll have another talk about it. In the meantine, go over the whole thing again and see if there isn’t something you’ve missed that we could bring out. The refusal of the Warrant Officer to pass on that report of yours about the state of the boat—that’s the sort of point that tells.”
He left then.
“Seems a decent sort,” Bert said as the guard was brought to attention in the guardroom.
“Yes,” I said. “But that won’t get us out of this jam.”
Boots sounded in the corridor. The door was thrown open. “Corporal Vardy!” It was the sergeant.
“Yes?” I said.
“There’s a young lady here. Been waiting nearly an hour. She had a word with the Orderly Officer and he said she could see you.”
“A young lady?” I exclaimed.
“Yeah. Good looker too.” He gave a wink. He was a friendly sort. “I’ll send her in, shall I?”
I was a little dazed. Surely Betty hadn’t changed her mind? A great hope surged through me. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, send her in, would you?”
“Fings is lookin’ up,” Bert said with a grin. “Reck’n she’s come ter get ’er ring back.” He began whistling
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do
through his gums.
The sergeant’s footsteps returned. Beside his heavy boots I heard the quick patter of a girl’s shoes. Then the door opened and Jenny entered.
I was so amazed I just sat there, gaping, as she crossed the room towards me and the sergeant closed the door behind her. I just couldn’t believe my eyes. And she seemed so different. Instead of the shapeless khaki greatcoat, she was wearing a smart tailor-made, and the beret had been replaced by some ridiculous little bit of nonsense that gave her a gay, jaunty appearance. She looked gay and sparkling and bright—and very lovely—in that drab room. I stumbled awkwardly to my feet.
She took both my hands in hers. Her eyes were looking straight into mine. I felt such a surge of desperate joy that I nearly kissed her. “Jenny!” I cried. “Whatever brought you here? I thought you were in Scotland.”
She let go of my hands then and sat herself on the table. “So I was. But I got your letter and—well, here I am. And how’s my Bert?” she asked.
“All right, thanks, Miss,” Bert replied with a shy grin.
“But—whatever made you come all the way down here?” I asked.
“Curiosity,” she said, laughing. “I wanted to find out what all this business about being arrested for mutiny was. I also wanted to see you both. And—well, I came as soon as I could.”
“But you shouldn’t have come all this way, Jenny,” I said. “I mean, you’ve only just got home and your father——”
“Don’t be silly, Jim,” she interrupted me. “Of course, I came. And Daddy expected me to. After all the travelling I’ve done through Europe in the last few months, Oban to Falmouth wasn’t such a very long trip. Now,” she said, “what is all this nonsense?”
“It’s not nonsense, I’m afraid,” I told her.
Bert began edging his way to the door. “Look, chum,” he said, “I’ll slip a’t an’ ’ave a chat wiv the boys in the guardroom.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him to go.
“What’s the idea, Bert?” Jenny asked. “Come and sit over here. I want to hear all about this business.”
“Orl right, miss,” Bert had the door open now. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. But I got an idea there’s some char comin’ up. Usually does ab’at this time. Bet you could do wiv a cup, couldn’t you?” And with that he went out, closing the door behind him.
Jenny suddenly laughed. It was a happy, carefree laugh. “Jim,” she said, “the way Bert’s behaving you’d think he regarded us as lovers, or something.”
“I—I don’t know,” I said. “I think he just thought we’d like to talk alone for a bit.”
She looked up at me and then looked quickly away. There was a moment’s silence. And then she said, “He’s a pet anyway. I’m glad you’ve got him for company. He’s such a—friendly person.” She looked at me then. “How’s your fiancée taken this?” she asked. “Have you heard yet?”
I’d told her all about Betty and how she’d forced me to go for a commission.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve heard.”
“Well?” she said. She wasn’t looking at me. She was staring down at the neatly shod little foot she was swinging to and fro.
“It’s finished,” I said.
“Finished?” She looked up at me incredulously.
“Yes,” I said. “She wrote to me and enclosed my ring.”
“Didn’t she even come to see you?”
I shook my head. “I—I thought for a moment when the sergeant said there was a lady to see me that—well, that it might be her.”
“Oh, Jim.” She rested her hand lightly on my arm for a second. “And it was only me. I am sorry.”
I looked at her then. The sight of her warm, friendly look made me feel suddenly happy. “Don’t be,” I said. “I’m so very, very glad to see you. It—it just never occurred to me that it might be you. That day when you left the ship—you never looked round or waved—I thought I should never see you again.” She offered me a cigarette and we smoked in silence for a moment. Then I said, “Tell me what you’ve been doing since you got back.”
“Oh, seeing friends,” she replied. “Helping Daddy with his stamps. Doing things that needed to be done to the house. And seeing about the refitting of the
Eilean Mor
. The Navy de-requisitioned her about four months ago. She’s in quite good shape. I had her out the other day. Went as far as Ardmore Point at the tip of Mull and back. Now MacPherson—he’s our old boatman—has got the engine down. In a few months I’ll have her in fine condition again.” She got down off the table then. “Jim,”
she said, “who’s defending you at the Court-Martial? There will be a Court-Martial, won’t there?”
“Yes,” I said. “A fellow called Captain Jennings has offered to defend us. He’s a solicitor in private life and seems quite competent.”
She had fallen to pacing the room. “You know,” she said, “it’s a strange thing, but I met the skipper of the minesweeper that picked up Captain Halsey and the others. It was at a party in Oban. As soon as he learned that I was one of the survivors of the
Trikkala
, he said ‘That’s funny. I landed the skipper of the
Trikkala
and several other members of the
Trikkala’s
crew here in Oban about a week ago.’ He’d picked them up about 50 miles northeast of the Faroes. I think he said it was on the 26th of last month. I know he said it was twenty-one days after the
Trikkala
went down. He was a bit puzzled at finding them in that position. He says that according to reports he’d had of the weather in the area through which they must have sailed, it was fair with a moderate sea and the wind mainly from the north. His point was that sailing from the point where the
Trikkala
went down he would have expected them to have been in the neighbourhood of the Dogger Bank in a week’s sailing. Instead he found them north-east of the Faroes after twenty-one days.”
“Did he question Halsey about it?” I asked.
“Yes. Halsey’s reply was that the wind had been changeable, as often as not blowing from almost due south.”
“And he believed what Halsey told him?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Naturally. His weather reports had only been gathered from vessels he had spoken to. After all, Halsey was hardly likely to prolong a voyage in an open boat unnecessarily.”
“What was their condition when he picked them up?” I asked.
“Not good,” she replied. “But better than he would have expected after twenty-one days in an open boat at that time of the year.” She suddenly stopped pacing and looked at me, her forehead puckered in a frown. “I
can’t understand it,” she said. “Halsey promised he’d pick the raft up at dawn. When I thought we were the only survivors, I presumed he had failed to get clear of the ship in time and that he and the others must have gone down with it. But now that I know he got his boat clear in time, I just can’t understand why he didn’t wait to pick us up. It’s almost—oh, I don’t know.”
“Almost what?” I asked.
“Well——” She hesitated. “It’s almost as though he had some reason for not waiting in that area. I know it was blowing a gale and visibility was bad. It’s quite possible for him to have missed us. But—well, I began remembering all your suspicions and wondering whether there was some truth in them.”
“Jenny,” I said, “you were in the officers’ quarters on the
Trikkala.
You must have heard them conversing. Did anything strike you as strange—not at the time, of course, but now.”
“Ever since I got your letter to say you’d been arrested,” she replied, “I’ve been racking my brains for any scrap of conversation that would help. But I’m afraid I’ve not been very successful. The relations between the various officers seemed reasonably normal. The Chief Engineer was a detestable drunk and as far as I could see was generally ignored, except by Rankin. The second officer, Cousins, seemed a likeable and efficient young man. Hendrik was little more than the Captain’s shadow. He was dour and brusque. I should say efficient, too. He was often in the Captain’s cabin. And it was outside that cabin that I overheard the only piece of conversation that I can remember as being at all unusual. It was the afternoon we sailed. I was going up on deck and I stopped to fix my greatcoat. It was outside the Captain’s cabin and I suppose the door must have been ajar. Hendrik was just making a remark. I didn’t hear what he said, but I heard Captain Halsey’s reply. It was: ‘Yes, I’ll think up something to cover that.’ Then he gave a sharp chuckle and quoted: ‘
Henceforth my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth!
’ I didn’t pay much attention to it. The first part might have referred
to anything. As for the quotation, well he was always quoting Shakespeare, as you know. You could hear him almost any time you passed the cabin.” She looked across at me. “Do you think he might be a bit mental?” she asked.
“No,” I said. I didn’t know what to think, but I was certain Halsey was not a mental case—or if he was there was some sort of twisted method in his madness.
There was a gentle knock at the door and I said, “Come in!”
It was Bert. “Only me, chum,” he said. “’Ere we are—free mugs o’ the ol’ Rosie Lea.”
He put the mugs of thick, brown liquid on the table. “Well done, Bert,” I said and handed one of the mugs to Jenny. “I’m afraid it won’t taste much like tea, but it’s wet and warm.”