In fact, he was not allowed long to entertain these thoughts, for hardly had the two worthies who had shared his cell made the best of their way forward, before the yeoman, in a voice that affected Herc much as a sudden plunge into ice water would have done, shouted out:
"Ordinary Seaman Taylor!"
The story of Herc's knocking out the bully had already spread through the ship—a place where gossip travels as swiftly as through a small village—and the officers and the few men whose duties brought them near to the "court room"—eyed Herc curiously as he stepped forward, with head bared, holding himself as erect as possible. He saluted as he clicked his heels together with painstaking precision. His heart beat fast and thick, however, and there was an anxious look in his eyes as he faced his inquisitors.
Herc was a brave boy, full of pluck and grit; but the ordeal before him might have caused a stouter heart than his to quail.
"Master-at-arms, what do you know about this case?" asked the captain, as Herc stood rigid, twisting his cap in his big hands.
The master-at-arms rapidly rehearsed what he knew of the affair, and then the captain turned to his executive officer.
"Mr. Scott, there is a complainant in this case, is there not?"
"Yes, sir," was the reply. "Mr. Andrews, who had the deck this morning, so reported to me."
"Able Seaman and Gunner Ralph Kennell is the man, sir," said Lieutenant Andrews, stepping forward.
"Very good. Where is this man Kennell?"