A bitter fight raged in the old man's bosom, but he saw his duty, and knew it must be done. There was a long and awful pause. When the admiral spoke again it was in an altered tone; he had regained his self-control.
"Captain Pearson," he said slowly and deliberately, in a strained and unnatural voice, "let the court-martial which passed judgment upon the prisoner be re-convened at once to try Major Edward Coventry for disobedience of orders in time of war, and for aiding and abetting the escape of an enemy, and for knowingly declaring a forged order, purporting to bear my signature, to be correct,--in short, for conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman."
"Surely not that last, my Lord," said Coventry, impulsively raising his hand in deprecation.
The admiral hesitated, looked long and earnestly at his handsome son. "You may leave off the part about conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, Pearson," he answered.
"Thank you, sir," said Coventry, gratefully.
"Good heavens, my Lord!" cried Pearson; "the punishment is death--I pray you--"
"Silence, sir!" he cried sternly; "you have your order. Shall I be more merciful to this gentleman than to the poor marine I would have had shot a moment since for less than he has done?"
"But he is your son. Have mercy on him, my Lord!"
"So much the more imperative that he should receive justice--not mercy from me. Besides, from this hour he is no longer son of mine," said the old man, inflexibly. "Let the prisoner be confined under double guard; you will see that he at least does not escape you."
"It is just," said Coventry, no less resolutely than his father; "I expected it. It was for her I did it."