'Gentlemen, I ask you, which would you rather face, in your garden? A mad dog, or a Carib? Much less a horde of Caribs. Does anyone here imagine that Colonel Warner was happy in what he had to do? Does anyone here imagine that Mr Porter was happy to see his dog, his favourite dog, lying dead at his feet? Yet it had to be done, and it was done. And Mr Porter was praised for it.
'My learned friend has made a great deal of the fact that a safe conduct was discussed and agreed. By whom was it agreed? By Sir William Stapleton and Captain Christopher Hilton. Captain Hilton's knowledge of the Indians we have already discussed. So now, what of Sir William? Has he ever taken the field against the Caribs? Indeed he has not. In that respect, his has been a fortunate term of office. Until last year, to be precise. Perhaps it is a measure of his ability as a governor that his reaction was to attempt to talk peace, with a tribe of mad dogs.
'There will be comment on the fact, again as suggested by my learned friend, that the Caribs, in their raid on Antigua, were acting as no more than allies of the French, indeed, that they were French citizens. I dismiss this last suggestion as absurd, if indeed it is not plain treason. The English Government recognizes no French jurisdiction over Dominica, nor do we. As for the Caribs being called into action by Monsieur DuCasse, were they so called when last they raided the Leewards, looting, burning, raping, kidnapping, eating at the stake? Is it not the truth that, as the Leeward Islanders had built up their defences, the Caribs found themselves unable to assault these bastions of English civilization unless they could secure allies. And these were eventually forthcoming in the presence of the French buccaneer fleet. But even if Monsieur DuCasse were to appear in this court today, and claim that he had brought the Caribs to Antigua at his personal invitation, I would put him no more than in the position of Mr Porter, whose dog was mad, and who saw what had to be done, and did it. Monsieur DuCasse thought differently, and acted differently. But do we not condemn Monsieur DuCasse upon a score of grounds? Is he not a most guilty man? Gentlemen, we praised Mr Porter's action. We could not also praise a determination by him, or any other, to turn mad dogs loose to do their damndest.
'And then, gentlemen, there is the point that Tom Warner was Colonel Philip Warner's brother. Gentlemen, how much do we owe this splendid family which has made it possible for us all to be here, and prosper. Is there a man amongst us who docs not have a mistress, whose father did not have a mistress, who does not, perhaps, have a bastard half-brother? We all would hope that our bastard half-brothers, or our bastard sons, will inherit sufficient of our family characteristics to play their full, their valuable part in the onward march of the human race. But, let us be frank, gentlemen, when, convulsed by passion for a pretty face, an alluring body, we seek a woman's bed, we are not then concerned with the probable result of our immorality. We take it on trust. We are all sinners before the Lord, and yet we have the effrontery to believe that should a child result from our sin, he or she will contain only the virtues we are conscious of, and none of the vices we may fear in the mother.
'Gentlemen, Sir Thomas Warner, far from the country whence he was born, far from friends and from religion, concerned only with building an empire, working from dawn until dusk, fell in love with a beautiful woman. But she was an Indian. From that liaison terrible consequences were to flow. The enmity of Carib for white man. But this was perhaps inevitable, as they were rivals for these islands. But the union also produced this man, Tom Warner. See the note of love, the confident expectation, with which Sir Thomas received this bastard son; he gave the child his own name. But alas, like so many of us, he was wrong. The child inherited none of the splendid virtues of the father. He inherited only the crazed blood-lust of the mother. Gentlemen, when your bastard disappoints you, you show him the door, allow him perhaps a shilling or two to keep him from starving, and think no more on the matter. For what can the lad do, save disappear? But Indian Warner was no mere bastard. He was the son of a princess, herself the daughter of a great cacique. When his crimes caused the new head of the family, Philip Warner, to expel him from Antigua, he did not disappear into the world. He disappeared into the forests of Dominica, to seek his people, carrying his demoniac mother with him. And there, gentlemen, was he sought out by the no less demoniac French, and made governor over this savage place, and told to support them in their dreams of conquest.
'Gentlemen, from birth, Tom Warner was a mad dog. He should have been strangled at his mother's breast. He was not. He was a Warner. Philip Warner, and his stepmother, attempted to make the boy into a civilized human being. They failed. Gentlemen, we may well say there was the crime, if ever a crime was committed, which should be laid at the door of Philip Warner. He did not hang this foul spawn of his father's lust on the instant; he still counted on the mere fact that there was Warner blood in the monster's veins, and he let him go, on condition that he left the Leewards for ever. Gentlemen, there was weakness. But the test of a man is whether weakness is an act of policy, or an act of character. It was Philip Warner's decision to let his brother go, perhaps out of love for his father's memory, perhaps, who knows, out of love for the boy himself. They had shared their youths together.
'That decision was a terrible mistake. But at least Philip Warner was prepared to rectify it. There is no weakness of character here. When this terrible figure reappeared, blood dripping from his ghastly mouth, Philip Warner knew what had to be done, and he knew too, that he must do it. There was a mad dog at large, and it had to be destroyed. But it had retired to its lair. It had to be enticed out. He could not do that himself. The hatred he bore for his brother was well known. So he employed his son-in-law.
'Gentlemen, let us not be hard on Captain Hilton. Here is a man who, in spite of his irregular youth, his piratical background, would indeed appear to be a sincere and honest fellow, as suggested by my learned friend, if perhaps he also appears to be weak. Some of his recent actions, indeed, may be called irrational. His own wife was dreadfully assaulted by the Caribs. Yet he wished to make peace with them. He wished to deal with them as honourable men. Perhaps because he has been forced to act dishonourably so often in his past, he has cultivated an unnatural regard for honour, regardless of the fact that honour must be respected and therefore shared, it cannot be imposed upon those who do not understand the meaning of the word. Philip Warner, a born leader of men. knew this fact well enough. To have told Christopher Hilton what he intended would have been to negate his every plan. So Captain Hilton was made a dupe. Yet was the cause itself worthy. Colonel Warner sought an end to warfare and bloodshed, to rape and mayhem, and like a born leader of men, he sought this end with the least possible risk to his own people. Gentlemen, I ask you to imagine the agony this decision must have cost Colonel Warner, the heart-searching and the despair. But I ask you also to be glad that in our midst there are yet men of such decision, and such courage. And I ask you more, whether any man of you, faced with a similar problem, would have acted differently. And gentlemen, when you have asked yourselves these questions, I ask you to acquit my client, and indeed, to praise him, as a man who did what was necessary, at whatever cost to himself.'
Mr Harley sat down, and the court remained absolutely silent. His Excellency once again was pulling at his nose.
'Gentlemen of the jury,' he said. 'This is one of the saddest cases I have ever had to hear. You have listened to the evidence carefully put together by Mr Pratt, so honestly attested by Captain Hilton, and so literately stated by those who cannot be with us. This evidence is incontestable, nor has it been contested. Mr Pratt is right when he states that the issue as to whether or not Colonel Warner repeated his assurance of safe conduct for the Indians to Captain Hilton, when the fleet anchored off Dominica, is irrelevant. He is right when he suggests that this was already established in St John's. There can be no other point at issue. And let me make this plain. A criminal case is tried upon facts before the law. Colonel Warner, as an executive of English justice, and as he acted on board an English ship, is
subjected to English law. It is not your place to decide the moral issues at stake here. It is your question to decide the fact of Colonel Warner's guilt before the law, and the facts are these, that a safe conduct was agreed, that in view of this safe conduct the Carib chieftains attended Colonel Warner's ship, and that there, on Colonel Warner's orders, they were done to death. These are the facts of the case. I can add nothing to them, and you have no right to take anything away from them. I will now ask you to retire to consider your verdict.'
The foreman of the jury stood up. 'We have no wish to retire, Your Lordship.'
The Governor frowned. 'What? What?'
'Our verdict is already decided, Your Lordship.'
'Bless my soul,' said the Governor. 'Bless my soul. May I ask what the verdict is?'
'We find the accused, Colonel Philip Warner, not guilty of either murder or treachery, Your Lordship.'
'Bless my soul,' the Governor said again. 'Is that the verdict of you all?'
'It is a unanimous verdict, Your Lordship.'
But the end of his statement was lost in a roar of approval which seemed to emanate from every corner of the room.
II
The Outcast
'Sail ho,' shouted the main top, and Captain Holgate hurried to the taffrail, Kit at his side.
'The Warners, you think?' Kit asked.
Victors and vanquished had left Barbados within hours of each other, in different ships, two days previously, and had remained in sight until the previous night.
'Only if she has passed under our stern.' Holgate levelled his telescope. 'This is a sloop. Out of St Kitts, I would say.'
Both the islands could be seen on the northern horizon, with Nevis and Montserrat clinging to port, and Guadeloupe still high astern.
'Aye,' Kit said. 'They'll have made St John's by now. I suspected they'd show you their heels when the wind dropped.'
Holgate closed his telescope with a snap. 'Ah, well, maybe it's to the good, Captain Hilton. There'll be a crowd to welcome him, you can be sure of that. You'll not be the most popular man there.'
' 'Tis not my own popularity I worry about,' Kit muttered. 'How much longer, do you think?'
'By nightfall,' Holgate said. 'We shall have to beat up.'
'Then do so,' Kit suggested. 'I do beseech you, sir.'
Holgate nodded. His passenger had kept mainly to his cabin on the return voyage; only the sight of Antigua on the bow had brought him on deck now. Well, he could hardly be blamed for that. Holgate could not help but wonder what would be Sir William Stapleton's reaction to the court judgement. What indeed, would happen in Antigua. If it were possible to pass a vote of no confidence in a governor, then the Barbadian jury had done just that. But were they not
merely reflecting prevailing opinion in all the islands?
But nothing in this unhappy situation could compare with the position in which Captain Hilton must now find himself.
'She approaches, the deck,' shouted the main top.
Holgate frowned and turned back to the rail. Once again he levelled his glass. 'The government sloop, by God. And flying a signal. You'll heave to, Mr Hartopp.'
'For God's sake,' Kit shouted. 'I am in haste, Captain. Can you not appreciate that?'
'I appreciate that, well enough, Captain Hilton,' Holgate said. 'But you must appreciate that we are once again at war, with France. In obeying His Excellency's instructions and remaining in Carlisle Bay these past weeks in order to bring you back to Antigua, I have sadly neglected my true responsibilities. If now the St Kitts sloop wishes to communicate with me, sir, I have no alternative but to await its news, whether good or bad.'
Kit sighed, and nodded. 'Aye, you are right, of course, sir. You have my apology.'
He moved away, gazed at the calm sea behind them. And of course his agitation was founded on no reasonable apprehension. So perhaps Philip Warner and Marguerite would land in St John's a few hours before he would reach Falmouth. What, would they immediately seek to avenge themselves? And why should they attempt to avenge themselves in any event, on Lilian? Their enemy was Kit Hilton, and they would wait for him.
He hoped and prayed.
But in any event, there would be celebrations, which would certainly consume the rest of this night. With the wind fair there was no question but that the Euryalus would make English Harbour by dawn, no matter how long the delay.
The sloop had by now also hove to, and was lowering a boat. Kit watched the oars dipping, coming out of the water sparkling wet, little rainbows scintillating through the scattered drops of water. How appreciative had he suddenly become of the true beauty in life. Because he was so tired, of antagonism. But now was no time to be tired. Now would the antagonisms be more determined than ever.
The boat came under the lee of the frigate, and the captain of the sloop scrambled up the ladder. 'Captain Holgate, sir.' He saluted the bridge while the bosun's pipes shrilled.
'Come up, Mr Lewis. Come up.' Holgate met the lieutenant at the top of the companion-way. 'What news, man, what news?'
Lewis's face was grim. 'The very worst, sir. There has been a battle off the Main, and Benbow has been worsted.' 'Benbow, defeated?' Holgate cried. 'DuCasse?' Kit asked.
'The same,' Lewis said. 'Mind you, gentlemen, there was little glory in it for the Frenchman. It would appear that there was cowardice amongst the English. Indeed Monsieur DuCasse recognized as much, and has written to Port Royal suggesting they be hanged.'
'Aye,' Holgate said thoughtfully. 'And I'll wager I can name at least two of their number. Wade for a start, and Hampton ... no doubt they influenced the rest. They would never accept the authority of a man from the lower deck. And Benbow?'
'Grievous wounded, Captain Holgate. 'Tis said he will lose a leg, if indeed his life can be saved.'
'And DuCasse runs free once again. You'll see we had reason to halt, Captain Hilton.'
'I've already begged your forgiveness, friend. You'll but set me on the beach before taking your station.'
Holgate nodded, but Lewis was frowning.
'I did not halt you, gentlemen, to impart that news, grave as it is. My message concerns Captain Hilton.'
'What?' Kit cried. 'What, man? Out with it.'
'Sir William begs me to inform you, sir, that he has been relieved of his post, and is already on his way back to England.'
'Stapleton gone?' Holgate said. 'But
'He lays the deed at the door of the planters, sir,' Lewis said. 'To condemn their most prominent member is to make an enemy of the entire breed, and so it was felt by Her Majesty's ministers that government would become impossible. But by the same token, he begged me to inform Captain Hilton that life in Antigua for Philip Warner's enemy will become impossible. He suggests, sir, that you remove yourself to St Kitts, or even farther afield.'
'By God,' Kit said. 'Does His Excellency suppose that I am afraid to face any one of that scum with a sword in my hand?'
'By no means, sir,' Lewis agreed. 'But it is not your face he is concerned with. Tempers have run high these last years, and angry men may stoop to no reasonable act.'
Holgate glanced at Kit. 'I can easily alter course for St Kitts. You have but to say the word.'
'And you know that I must return to Antigua, at least for a while. There are people there whose safety requires it.'
'Well, sir,' Lewis said, looking very distressed.
'And of course much will depend on the character of the new governor,' Holgate said. 'Any word of him?'
'None, sir, at the moment. The islands are to be ruled separately by the Speakers of their Houses, pending the appointment.'
'Trumbull, by God,' Kit said. 'There is at least an honest man.'
'Honesty is not always a buffer against angry majorities,' Holgate reminded him. 'None the less, we shall make for English Harbour with all speed. My thanks, Mr Lewis.'
Lewis was now looking definitely embarrassed. He glanced from Captain Holgate to Kit, and then back again, and his face was re
d. 'Aye,' he said at last. 'You'll be there by nightfall. 'Tis what must happen, I've no doubt. I'll take my leave, sir. And wish you Godspeed, Captain Hilton.'
Kit frowned after him. 'Now what the devil did he mean by those words?'
'Less his words,' Holgate agreed. 'Than his manner. You do not suppose ...'
'There has already been some disturbance? By God, sir, make sail, I beg of you, and land me at Falmouth.'
The frigate could not approach the shore too closely, and dropped its anchor in the centre of the bay. Kit was already waiting in the gangway as the boat was swung out.
"You'll understand that I must make haste for Sandy Point, Kit,' Holgate explained.
'I understand that, Captain. There are sufficient boats here to bring me across if I should feel it necessary. If I have to I'll seize one, by God. With Agrippa as crew we'll have no trouble.' He shook hands, and climbed down the ladder. 'Give way, lads, give way.'
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