“Well, what have you to say?” the officer asked impatiently.
Sydney thought rapidly; as Phil’s counsel he could plead and say things he knew his chum would be too modest to tell.
“I ask the court’s indulgence,” Sydney commenced, seeking for appropriate words to convey clearly all that was in his mind to the members of the court. “The accused has been charged with disobeying the orders of his superior officer on La Mesa the day of the assault. We have two witnesses who will testify that in a house belonging to the ex-vice-consul, Mr. Juarez, thirty Colt automatic guns with ammunition were found; that these guns were mounted by the accused and his companions and manned by a company of government soldiers. The attack was on La Mesa, although the minister representing the United States had informed General Barras that a reliable informant had told him the attack would be upon Tortuga Hill. We can show that the presence of the accused and his companions was indispensable on La Mesa at the time of Mr. Lazar’s arrival. If the order had been obeyed the Colt guns would have fallen into the hands of the insurgents, which would have discredited the minister and the United States in the eyes of the existing government. Our witness Craig will tell the part Mr. Lazar has taken in connection with these arms and will show why the accused deliberately disobeyed a positive order.”
Sydney sat down, his eyes flashing, his face pale and anxious.
The court was silent for a fraction of a second and then a hum of surprised interrogation spread among its members. All knew of the captured arms and how the rock-filled boxes were found at the legation.
“The witness will be allowed to testify,” the president spoke decidedly.
“I have no further question to ask,” snapped the judge advocate, betraying in his voice the disappointment at losing his point.
The court looked to Sydney; he whispered reassuringly to the unnerved Craig.
The terrified sailor’s voice was so low pitched that the seven judges strained their hearing to listen. The silence was profound.
“At New York, while we were there for repairs,” he commenced feebly, “I received a telegram that my sister was dying. I went to Mr. Lazar as the senior officer on board at the time and asked for leave to go to her bedside. He refused me permission. I showed him the telegram and her picture in a locket I always carried with me; she was my only living relative and we were everything to each other. I implored with tears in my eyes. He refused again and accused me of deceiving him to get ashore when I was not entitled to liberty.