"And you had done nothing to him?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Very good. You may stand aside. Taylor, what have you to say to this story?"
"Not much, sir, except that it is a fabrication," said Herc indignantly, his fear at the officers swallowed in his wrath at Kennell's lying tale. "It is true I dropped the paint on his head. That was accidental, however. So far as his injuries go, I believe that he got the cut over his eye when he fell against the turret. He hit it an awful whack, sir." Herc grinned broadly at the recollection.
"No levity, please. You are to understand this is a serious matter. Who struck the first blow?"
Herc hesitated. It was no part of his ideas of what was right to tell tales on a fellow seaman, and yet Kennell had lied cruelly about him. Suddenly his mind was made up.
"I had rather not say, sir," he said at length in a low tone.
"What! Are you aware that this is a confession of guilt, or equivalent to it?"
"Perhaps so, sir, but I cannot say," repeated Herc stubbornly.