“This is insolence!” cried the president, and glaring angrily, he maintained that it was a regular court martial for the field, and that as he was the ranking officer at hand, there could be no appeal beyond himself.
“A regular drum-head,” Driscoll observed. “Well, let it go at that. I’m in a hurry.”
Lopez called a lieutenant of Austrian cavalry to his right upon the sofa, and the Dragoon color sergeant to his left, and the three of them sat thenceforth in judgment. The charges were read, and next a deposition, gathered that day from Michel Ney. Therein appeared the American, reinforcing Rodrigo Galán at Tampico, and in so far aiding the abduction of Mademoiselle d’Aumerle.
175“The complicity is evident,” stated Lopez, and his colleagues, blinking at the candles on the box, nodded wisely.
“It’s straight so far,” Driscoll agreed, “but the story goes a little further. Does the ma’am’selle herself happen to have left any deposition?”
She had, admitted the president, but it merely corroborated the foregoing. Driscoll, in sole charge of his own defence, insisted that her deposition be read, but Lopez would permit no such waste of time. He was brooding on Monsieur Éloin usurping his own place near the Emperor, and he wanted to finish the present business so as to overtake them both.
Dupin’s written evidence provided the rest of the abduction story, seemingly, and there remained only the other charge, that of assisting at the ambush of the murdered Captain Maurel. For this there was no evidence, and the accused himself was examined.
“Your name?” asked the court.
“Driscoll.”
“Your full name, hombre?”