When they reached the Boodah they were conducted down to a police-court, and there shivered an hour in a dreary light, till three officials in peaked caps and frock-coats came, sat on a Bench, and, after hearing evidence, pronounced sentence of seven months against the captains, and one against Frankl.
These were led away by police blue-jackets, and Frankl groaned through the night in a box as cold as the cells of Colmoor.
The next morning Quilter-Beckett, making a report in Hogarth's salon, mentioned the incident, saying: “Here are the names, with the sentences; I shall send the sailors home...” and Hogarth's eyes, resting on the document, chanced to catch that name of Frankl.
At once he turned pale, for his first thought was: “Frankl must have been going to the wedding, in which case Someone Else may be with him”.
But her name was not there....
He rose and paced; and he said low: “No one else on either of the ships?”
“No, my Lord King”.
Then up lifted Hogarth's brow, alight with fun, and he muttered: “All right, Caps-and-tassels”.
He said aloud: “Quilter-Beckett, this Frankl I know. Did you never hear anything about Caps-and-tassels at Westring? He is Caps-and-tassels. Now tell me, which is your biggest blue-jacket?”
“Man called Young, my Lord King”.