CHAPTER XXXI

The court of enquiry drags wearily and without any satisfaction or definite result.

To tell the truth, none of the officers constituting the court ever really expected much result from it. When a ship has gone down in such a manner, blown to pieces almost in a moment and sinking without leaving any trace, it is exceedingly difficult to assign a cause to the disaster in the absence of any material evidence; and it seems likely that this must be counted as one more of the many mysteries whose solution lies hidden beneath the waves until such time as the sea gives up her dead.

General opinion appears to be on the whole in favour of the theory of an internal explosion; but the theory is not strongly held, and is supported only by negative evidence. And against it the fact is elucidated that the magazines and shell-rooms were all inspected less than two hours before the time of the disaster.

The suggestion to call in the members of the shipwrecked party meets with outward approval, but inwardly it is regarded by most of those present as rather a bore and a waste of time. What purpose can be served by questioning these people? What can they possibly know about it? The idea that they can have had a hand in the affair is, of course, ridiculous. Much better cut it out and let the members of the court get away to lunch!

But no one dares to utter these thoughts openly. There is only a smothered protest of deep sighs when the secretary states his opinion that these witnesses should be brought in and examined separately, and not all three together. More time going to be wasted.

Miss Netta Sheridan is first called; and there is a perceptible stir amongst the officers of the court, and a lively recrudescence of interest as the pretty girl enters the room. With two exceptions, none of those present have seen her before, and they certainly did not expect to see anyone of this delicately beautiful type. And none of them have had any leave for some considerable period, so it is long since they had the opportunity of setting eyes upon a pretty girl. Yes, the suggestion of bringing in the shipwrecked party was, after all, quite a good one!

And, to the delight of most of the members, the girl is accompanied by one whom they all know very well indeed; Mrs. Shaw can be depended on to enliven even a dull affair like a court of enquiry!

On her first entrance, however, she gives no sign of any intention to brighten up the proceedings by taking the slightest part in them either by verbal protest or otherwise. On the contrary, she seats herself in the chair provided for her without uttering a single word, and folding her hands resignedly in her lap gazes at the ceiling in an air of complete distraction. But there is a martial glitter in her upturned eyes which speaks plainer than any mere words. It says, "I wash my hands of the whole affair! If you men must behave like a parcel of fools, well then you must, that's all! I suppose you think yourselves very wise and important, don't you? All right, go on! And if you are quite determined to make a martyr of this poor child, it's your own responsibility, and I can't prevent you!"

At the request of the president of the court, Netta tells her story over again from the very beginning, omitting none of the details which have been so carefully drilled into her. It is not a pleasant task for the girl. The whole action has become thoroughly repugnant to her mind, and as for her own particular part in it, at no time a congenial part, this is now no more to her than a matter for sincere repentance.

Yet she still continues _splendide mendax_--which means not so much a magnificent liar as a liar in a good cause.

For is it not a good cause to shield her cousin Norah? And there is no other way to do so, no other way so far as Netta can perceive, except this one of sticking religiously to her plausible tissue of false statements.

And all the time she is speaking she is wondering to herself, "Did Dick Baynes manage to still the tongue of Mr. Stapleton, as he promised he would?" She looks around the court, and is much comforted to find that Stapleton is not here. Baynes must have succeeded, then.

So far, so good. But with this consoling reflection comes also the remembrance of the price she will have to pay for this help. Dick is not the man to let her off the full payment--nor would she ask him. No, the compact must be observed on her side as well as on his. But the thought of it makes her shudder involuntarily.

The action does not escape the notice of her interrogators, who attribute it to her weak condition and pity her accordingly. Obviously, this witness must be spared as much as possible.

"A few questions more, and you shall not be troubled any further. While you were on board the _Marathon_, were you left alone for any part of the time?"

"Yes, but not for very long. For a few minutes at most."

"Where were you then? In what part of the ship, I mean?"

"I was in a cabin. I think it was in the cabin belonging to the surgeon."

"And what were you doing there?"

"I was carried there in a faint, when I came to myself I had no very distinct recollection of what had happened, but found myself lying on the bed and the doctor attending to me."

"Did you leave the cabin then?"

"No, I think I must have fainted again, or else have fallen into a kind of sleep. I only remember that they had to lift me from the bed when the time came to leave, and to carry me on board the destroyer."

"So that for the little while you were left alone you were really unable to move or to leave the cabin unaided?"

"Quite unable."

Another member of the court breaks in here with a pertinent enquiry:

"Is there any means of confirming these statements? Is the surgeon of the _Marathon_ here to give evidence?"

"He is dead, sir," states the president in a tone of quiet rebuke. "The questioner should have known this, if he had read the list of the saved more carefully."

"God bless the man," comes like a shrill bark from Mrs. Shaw, who suddenly lowers her eyes from the ceiling and fixes them in a baleful stare upon the offending questioner--"what more evidence does he want to prove that the poor girl was ill? Perhaps he thinks she is shamming now! If he will be good enough to condescend to look at her he might see for himself that she is ill enough in all conscience--and will be worse still, if this silly nonsense goes on much longer."

"My dear, Mrs. Shaw!"--the effort to calm her is, however, not needed; she has shut her mouth again, like a steel trap, and resumed her effort to discover in the ceiling something of greater interest than the affairs of these ridiculous busybodies.

"Thank you, my dear young lady, that will do. We have no more questions to put to you.

"The court desires to thank you for the clear and helpful manner in which you have given your evidence, and sincerely regrets that you should have been put to such inconvenience in your present weak state of health."

A violent sniff is the only comment which Mrs. Shaw deigns to make on these courteous remarks.

"Now call in the other Miss Sheridan, if you please."

Norah enters, and takes a seat on the other side of her protectress. At the same moment, entering quietly by another door, comes in assistant paymaster Onslow, bringing a paper which he at once takes to the secretary.

"I brought this to you, sir," he announces, "as I thought it might have some bearing on the case. I have only just finished deciphering it."

Having delivered this message, Onslow departs again, to do some more of his mathematical puzzles which have been accumulating.

Dimsdale reads the message through, and nods sagely as its import dawns upon him. He rises from his place when he has finished the perusal, and going over to the admiral interrupts him just when about to call upon Norah for her evidence.

"I think you ought to see this, sir," he tells him. "It may possibly prove to be just what we are looking for."

The admiral in his turn takes the paper and, carefully adjusting his glasses, reads it through, forming the words silently with his lips as is his habit when dealing with any document of importance.

"Upon my word," he says to himself when he comes to the end of it, "I shouldn't be surprised if we have here the explanation of the whole thing."

Then, aloud he announces:

"I have here a signal which has only this minute come through. It appears to me to be of sufficient importance to justify my asking the court to listen to it. Of course, it may turn out to have nothing whatever to do with the case, but on that point the members of the court will form their own opinion."

After this tantalising preface he proceeds to read aloud:

"Urgent. Priority. From the Admiralty. To all ships and vessels. Message begins. Cordite Ammunition Mark 30.A., 007 over 16, type B.C. one, has been found to be defective, and is considered liable to spontaneous explosion. All ships having this type of ammunition are to disembark it immediately for destruction and are to fill up from the nearest ammunition depôt. Message ends."

There is a mild flutter of excitement amongst all present in the momentary silence which follows the reading of this signal.

"Did the _Marathon_ happen to have any of this particular lot of ammunition, on board?" asks a member of the court.

"That is a question that can easily be decided," the President replies. And, while one is despatched to produce the necessary records which are to provide the answer, he goes on to say:

"I think the court will agree with me that if it should prove to be the case that the _Marathon's_ ammunition comprised some of this mark referred to, there will be little need for us to pursue our investigations any further. For myself, I may state that my suspicions pointed this way, though in the absence of any evidence I did not think it right to bring forward mere suspicions. This however, puts a different complexion on the matter altogether. The court will doubtless remember the case of the French ship, _Jean Bart_, whose destruction was caused, according to the report of the experts who investigated the case, by an internal explosion resulting from defective ammunition. Also the case of the _Fox_, in our own Navy some years ago, where a spontaneous explosion in the after magazine caused an accident which happily was not accompanied by any casualties or the loss of the ship. I do not say, of course, that we can be certain of a similar cause for this present disaster, even if it should prove, that the _Marathon_ carried defective ammunition. But seeing that no other cause can reasonably be assigned, this would afford the only explanation with any sort of evidence in its support."

The records bearing upon the matter are brought in and placed before him on the table.

Once more the admiral adjusts his glasses and runs his finger carefully down the printed columns.

"Yes, the _Marathon_ had twenty rounds per gun of this mark 30.A. stuff." he announces; and the news makes a great impression upon the court. Evidently there is little use in prolonging the investigation any further. This discovery may not indeed be the true explanation, but it is at least an exceedingly probable one, and no other is at all likely to come to hand.

Yet, as a matter of form, the remaining witnesses must still be heard. And, recovering from what has proved a somewhat sensational winding up of the enquiry, the court suddenly remembers that Miss Norah Sheridan has been summoned to give evidence.

The president rises to address her. But before he can speak, a still more sensational development happens.

The door opens suddenly, and two officers burst hurriedly into the room--two officers who are neither members of the court nor witnesses called to appear before it in evidence. This is most irregular and astonishing; no wonder that everyone present turns in his place, and rivets his eyes upon these two outrageous intruders.

No, they have not made an error in the room--they do not withdraw on seeing where they have come, nor make any apology for their intrusion. On the contrary, they advance boldly to the president's table; one of them, indeed, is almost running in his evident haste.

He is a tall young officer in the uniform of a lieutenant-commander. And as he removes his cap it is noticed that his head is tied in bandages.

The silence that falls upon the court is broken by a woman's shriek.

Netta averts her eyes in horror from the sight of the unexpected intruder, and burying her face in Mrs. Shaw's bosom, cries out:

"Oh, send him away! Don't let him speak!"

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