Ramage's Mutiny by Dudley Pope

then?” Edwards asked Aitken.
    â€œI took the four men in custody. The American master demanded a receipt for them, saying he would protest to the American government. I gave him one—and warned him of the dangers of signing on mutineers.”
    â€œVery sound advice,” Edwards commented dryly. “That completes your evidence?” When Aitken nodded, Edwards looked up at the prisoners. “Have you any questions to ask this witness?”
    Weaver shuffled forward a pace—a move which made one of the Marine sentries swing round to watch him.
    â€œBy your leave, sir, I do.”
    â€œCarry on, then, but speak slowly so the deputy judge advocate can write it all down.”
    â€œI came up to you the moment you boarded, didn’t I, sir?” Weaver asked Aitken.
    â€œI think you did,” Aitken answered. “I can’t be sure because I was looking for the master. But you were waiting to speak to me, that was obvious.”
    â€œWas my name on your list, sir?”
    â€œThe name George Weaver was not.”
    â€œDid you—” the man paused. The careful way that the president, Gowers and Aitken had been speaking, lapsing from time to time into the jargon of courts martial, was obviously bothering him, and the president said quickly: “Just phrase your questions clearly, as though you were talking to a shipmate.”
    â€œAye, thank’ee, sir. Did you ask any of the others—these three here—who I was?”
    â€œYes, they all said they knew you only as George Weaver, and you were the Captain’s steward.”
    â€œDid you ask them when I joined the ship, sir?”
    Aitken nodded. “Yes I did, because of your claim.” Edwards leaned forward and looked directly at Aitken. “What claim was this?”
    â€œWell, sir, he claimed he had nothing to do with the mutiny and that no one else—no one not serving in the
Jocasta
at the time that is—could have known he was on board.”
    â€œThat’s it, sir,” Weaver said excitedly, taking another step forward and being pushed back by a Marine.
    Ramage guessed that Edwards knew all about the claim, but what he knew from Aitken’s original report was not evidence: the truth of the affair was, legally, what appeared in the court martial minutes that Gowers was keeping, and this laborious question-and-answer procedure was the only way of recording it.
    â€œWait a moment, Weaver; I am questioning Mr Aitken,” Edwards said. “Now, tell the court about this matter, and remember the rule about hearsay evidence: what Weaver told you
is
evidence, but what Weaver said someone else told him is not.”
    â€œQuite, sir. Well, Weaver said that after the
Jocasta
sailed from Jamaica, and before the mutiny, she fell in with a British merchant ship and pressed five men. Among them was Weaver.”
    Aitken paused as Gowers waved his quill frantically, warning him to speak slowly, and Ramage suddenly realized the point Weaver was trying to make. As far as the Admiralty was concerned, Weaver did not exist—at least, not as a Jocasta.
    â€œWeaver claimed that because the mutineers destroyed the
Jocasta
’s latest muster book, the Navy did not know that he was on board. The Navy only knew the men who were on board when the ship was in Jamaica, when the previous muster book was sent in.”
    The five captains understood exactly what Weaver meant, but it had to be explained more fully for the minutes. “Did Weaver know that muster books are sent to the Admiralty from time to time?” the president asked.
    â€œYes, sir. He told me that a new muster book had been started a week before the
Jocasta
sailed from Jamaica, so that the only record the Admiralty had of the men on board during the mutiny came from the previous muster book.”
    â€œDid he know of any men who had left the ship
after
the new muster book was started but before the ship left