Ramage's Mutiny by Dudley Pope Page A

Jamaica?”
    That was a shrewd question, Ramage noted; Captain Edwards was as concerned with the truth of the whole mutiny as he was with trying these four men. His question could avoid a man being wrongly accused of being on board the ship.
    â€œYes, sir. He mentioned three men who had been discharged dead just before the mutiny.”
    â€œHe gave the names?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œWere these dead men’s names on the list of mutineers you had in your possession?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œVery well. Now, Weaver, have you any more questions to ask this witness?”
    â€œYes, sir.” He turned towards Aitken. “Did I say to you that I was giving myself up, sir?”
    â€œYou did.”
    â€œAnd wasn’t you taken aback, like, and didn’t you go right through your list and ask me if the name ‘George Weaver’ was an alias?”
    â€œI was puzzled at first, yes, and I did check the list again.”
    â€œWhy, sir?”
    There was a sudden silence in the cabin: Gower’s pen stopped squeaking and every man’s eye was on Aitken. Even the Marine sentries realized how much depended on the Scots officer’s reply.
    â€œBecause you’d have been left in the American brig if you had kept silent. At least, unless one of the other prisoners gave you away.”
    Captain Edwards held up his hand. “Summers refused to denounce the other two. Do you think he would have denounced you?”
    â€œYes, sir, providing he was asked direct; we’d had a falling out,” Weaver said simply, obviously realizing that the question and answer did much to destroy his defence. “But, sir, I went up to this gentleman to give myself up the minute he boarded. I didn’t know why he was coming on board. No one did. It just seemed routine. No one knew he was looking for Jocastas—why, all that happened two years ago. I didn’t know he’d find Summers.”
    Ramage leaned forward to catch the president’s eye and Edwards nodded, giving permission for him to ask a question.
    â€œWhy did you sign on board the American brig?” Ramage asked.
    â€œT’was the only way I could get away from the Main, sir.”
    â€œWhy did you want to get away from the Main?”
    Weaver looked puzzled and went to scratch his head, but his hands were manacled. “Well, sir, I was trying to get back to my own folk.”
    That was what Ramage had expected, but Weaver was taking too much for granted; he was expecting the court to understand instinctively why he had done certain things. More questions were needed so that Weaver’s answers filled in the story.
    â€œBut you were in an American ship, bound for an American port.”
    â€œAye, sir, I were; but the Jonathans are the only ones what come into ports on the Main. I was reckoning on getting to England from Charleston, or maybe back down to Jamaica.”
    â€œSupposing you reached England or Jamaica—what did you intend to do?”
    â€œDo, sir? Why, report to the authorities—just like I did when this gentleman came on board the brig.”
    â€œWhy did you think the lieutenant boarded the brig?”
    â€œI dunno, sir. Mebbe to press some men, like when I was pressed into the
Jocasta.
But the minute I saw the
Juno
was a British ship I told my mate I was going to try to get on board.”
    â€œYour mate?”
    â€œThe friend of mine I met in Barcelona: the one what got me signed on.”
    â€œWas he an American or one of these prisoners?”
    Weaver looked dumbfounded. “An American, sir. Why, if these fellers—” he nodded towards the other three men “—if they’d known what I was going to do they’d ‘ave done me in. Why, you saw that Summers tried to throttle me. Well, you didn’t, sir, but the lieutenant did.”
    Edwards tapped the table lightly with his gavel.
    â€œAre you prepared to give evidence against the