CHAPTER XVII. BITTER WATER
Major Swan may or may not have been a gifted soldier. History is silenton the point. But the surviving records of the court-martial with whichwe are concerned go to show that he was certainly not a gifted speaker.His vocabulary was limited, his rhetoric clumsy, and Major Carruthersdenounces his delivery as halting, his very voice dull and monotonous;also his manner, reflecting his mind on this occasion, appears to havebeen perfectly unimpassioned. He had been saddled with a duty and hemust perform it. He would do so conscientiously to the best of hisability, for he seems to have been a conscientious man; but he could notbe expected to put his heart into the matter, since he was not inflamedby any zeal born of conviction, nor had he any of the incentives of acivil advocate to sway his audience by all possible means.
Nevertheless the facts themselves, properly marshalled, made up adangerous case against the prisoner. Major Swan began by dwelling uponthe evidence of motive: there had been a quarrel, or the beginnings ofa quarrel, between the deceased and the accused; the deceased had shownhimself affronted, and had been heard quite unequivocally to say thatthe matter could not be left at the stage at which it was interruptedat Sir Terence's luncheon-table. Major Swan dwelt for a moment uponthe grounds of the quarrel. They were by no means discreditable to theaccused, but it was singularly unfortunate, ironical almost, that heshould have involved himself in a duel as a result of his out-spokendefence of a wise measure which made duelling in the British army acapital offence. With that, however, he did not think that the courtwas immediately concerned. By the duel itself the accused had offendedagainst the recent enactment, and, moreover, the irregular manner inwhich the encounter had been conducted, without seconds or witnesses,rendered the accused answerable to a charge of murder, if it could beproved that he actually did engage and kill the deceased. Major Swanthought this could be proved.
The irregularity of the meeting must be assigned to the enactmentagainst which it offended. A matter which, under other circumstances,considering the good character borne by Captain Tremayne, wouldhave been quite incomprehensible, was, he thought, under existingcircumstances, perfectly clear. Because Captain Tremayne could not havefound any friend to act for him, he was forced to forgo witnesses to theencounter, and because of the consequences to himself of the encounter'sbecoming known, he was forced to contrive that it should be heldin secret. They knew, from the evidence of Colonel Grant and MajorCarruthers, that the meeting was desired by Count Samoval, and they weretherefore entitled to assume that, recognising the conditions arisingout of the recent enactment, the deceased had consented that the meetingshould take place in this irregular fashion, since otherwise it couldnot have been held at all, and he would have been compelled to forgo thesatisfaction he desired.
He passed to the consideration of the locality chosen, and there heconfessed that he was confronted with a mystery. Yet the mysterywould have been no less in the case of any other opponent than CaptainTremayne, since it was clear beyond all doubt that a duel had beenfought and Count Samoval killed, and no less clear that it was apremeditated combat, and that the deceased had gone to Monsantoexpressly to engage in it, since the duelling swords found had beenidentified as his property and must have been carried by him to theencounter.
The mystery, he repeated, would have been no less in the case of anyother opponent than Captain Tremayne; indeed, in the case of some otheropponent it might even have been deeper. It must be remembered, afterall, that the place was one to which the accused had free access at allhours.
And it was clearly proven that he availed himself of that access on thenight in question. Evidence had been placed before the court showingthat he had come to Monsanto in a curricle at twenty minutes to twelveat the latest, and there was abundant evidence to show that he was foundkneeling beside the body of the dead man at ten minutes past twelve--thebody being quite warm at the time and the breath hardly out of it,proving that he had fallen but an instant before the arrival of Mullinsand the other witnesses who had testified.
Unless Captain Tremayne could account to the satisfaction of the courtfor the manner in which he had spent that half-hour, Major Swan did notperceive, when all the facts of motive and circumstance were considered,what conclusion the court could reach other than that Captain Tremaynewas guilty of the death of Count Jeronymo de Samoval in a single combatfought under clandestine and irregular conditions, transforming the deedinto technical murder.
Upon that conclusion the major sat down to mop a brow that wasperspiring freely. From Lady O'Moy in the background came faintly, thesound of a half-suppressed moan. Terrified, she clutched the hand ofMiss Armytage,--and found that hand to lie like a thing of ice inher own, yet she suspected nothing of the deep agitation under hercompanion's outward appearance of calm.
Captain Tremayne rose slowly to address the court in reply to theprosecution. As he faced his, judges now he met the smouldering eyes ofSir Terence considering him with such malevolence that he was shockedand bewildered. Was he prejudged already, and by his best friend? Ifso, what must be the attitude of the others? But the kindly, floridcountenance of the president was friendly and encouraging; there waseager anxiety for him in the gaze of his friend Caruthers. He glanced atLord Wellington sitting at the table's end sternly inscrutable, a merespectator, yet one whose habit of command gave him an air that wasauthoritative and judicial.
At length he began to speak. He had considered his defence, and hehad based it mainly upon a falsehood--since the strict truth must haveproved ruinous to Richard Butler.
"My answer, gentlemen," he said, "will be a very brief one as brief,indeed, as the prosecution merits--for I entertain the hope that nomember of this court is satisfied that the case made out against me isby any means complete." He spoke easily, fluently, and calmly: a mansupremely self-controlled. "It amounts, indeed, to throwing upon me theonus of proving myself innocent, and that is a burden which no Britishlaws, civil or miliary, would ever commit the injustice of imposing uponan accused.
"That certain words of disagreement passed between Count Samoval andmyself on the eve of the affair in which the Count met his death, asyou have heard from various witnesses, I at once and freely admitted.Thereby I saved the court time and trouble, and some other witnesses whomight have been caused the distress of having to testify against me.But that the dispute ever had any sequel, that the further subsequentdiscussion threatened at the time by Count Samoval ever took place,I most solemnly deny. From the moment that I left Sir Terence'sluncheon-table on the Saturday I never set eyes on Count Samoval againuntil I discovered him dead or dying in the garden here at Monsanto onSunday night. I can call no witnesses to support me in this, because itis not a matter susceptible to proof by evidence. Nor have I troubledto call the only witnesses I might have called--witnesses as to mycharacter and my regard for discipline--who might have testified thatany such encounter as that of which I am accused would be utterlyforeign to my nature. There are officers in plenty in his Majesty'sservice who could bear witness that the practice of duelling is one thatI hold in the utmost abhorrence, since I have frequently avowed it, andsince in all my life I have never fought a single duel. My service inhis Majesty's army has happily afforded me the means of dispensing withany such proof of courage as the duel is supposed to give. I say Imight have called witnesses to that fact and I have not done so. This isbecause, fortunately, there are several among the members of this courtto whom I have been known for many years, and who can themselves, whenthis court comes to consider its finding, support my present assertion.
"Let me ask you, then, gentlemen, whether it is conceivable that,entertaining such feelings as these towards single combat, I should havebeen led to depart from them under circumstances that might very wellhave afforded me an ample shield for refusing satisfaction to a tooeager and pressing adversary? It was precisely because I hold the duelin such contempt that I spoke with such asperity to the deceased when hepronounced Lord Wellington's enactment a degrading one to men of bi
rth.The very sentiments which I then expressed proclaimed my antipathy tothe practice. How, then, should I have committed the inconsistency ofaccepting a challenge upon such grounds from Count Samoval? There iseven more irony than Major Swan supposes in a situation which himselfhas called ironical.
"So much, then, for the motives that are alleged to have actuated me.I hope you will conclude that I have answered the prosecution upon thatmatter.
"Coming to the question of fact, I cannot find that there is anything toanswer, for nothing has been proved against me. True, it has been provedthat I arrived at Monsanto at half-past eleven or twenty minutes totwelve on the night of the 28th, and it has been further proved thathalf-an-hour later I was discovered kneeling beside the dead body ofCount Samoval. But to say that this proves that I killed him is more, Ithink, if I understood him correctly, than Major Swan himself dares toassert.
"Major Swan is quite satisfied that Samoval came to Monsanto for thepurpose of fighting a duel that had been prearranged; and I admit thatthe two swords found, which have been proven the property of CountSamoval, and which, therefore, he must have brought with him, are aprima-facie proof of such a contention. But if we assume, gentlemen,that I had accepted a challenge from the Count, let me ask you, can youthink of any place less likely to have been appointed or agreed to byme for the encounter than the garden of the adjutant-general's quarters?Secrecy is urged as the reason for the irregularity of the meeting. Whatsecrecy was ensured in such a place, where interruption and discoverymight come at any moment, although the duel was held at midnight? Andwhat secrecy did I observe in my movements, considering that I droveopenly to Monsanto in a curricle, which I left standing at the gates infull view of the guard, to await my return? Should I have acted thusif I had been upon such an errand as is alleged? Common sense, I think,should straightway acquit me on the grounds of the locality alone, and Icannot think that it should even be necessary for me, so as to completemy answer to an accusation entirely without support in fact or in logic,to account for my presence at Monsanto and my movements during thehalf-hour in question."
He paused. So far his clear reasoning had held and impressed thecourt. This he saw plainly written on the faces of all--with one singleexception. Sir Terence alone the one man from whom he might have lookedfor the greatest relief--watched him ever malevolently, sardonically,with curling lip. It gave him pause now that he stood upon the thresholdof falsehood; and because of that inexplicable but obvious hostility,that attitude of expectancy to ensnare and destroy him, Captain Tremaynehesitated to step from the solid ground of reason, upon which he hadconfidently walked thus far, on to the uncertain bogland of mendacity.
"I cannot think," he said, "that the court should consider it necessaryfor me to advance an alibi, to make a statement in proof of my innocencewhere I contend that no proof has been offered of my guilt."
"I think it will be better, sir, in your own interests, so that you maybe the more completely cleared," the president replied, and so compelledhim to continue.
"There was," he resumed, then, "a certain matter connected with theCommissary-General's department which was of the greatest urgency, yetwhich, under stress of work, had been postponed until the morrow. It wasconcerned with some tents for General Picton's division at Celorico. Itoccurred to me that night that it would be better dealt with at once,so that the documents relating to it could go forward early on Mondaymorning to the Commissary-General. Accordingly, I returned to Monsanto,entered the official quarters, and was engaged upon that task when acry from the garden reached my ears. That cry in the dead of night wassufficiently alarming, and I ran out at once to see what might haveoccasioned it. I found Count Samoval either just dead or just dying, andI had scarcely made the discovery when Mullins, the butler, came out ofthe residential wing, as he has testified.
"That, sirs, is all that I know of the death of Count Samoval, and Iwill conclude with my solemn affirmation, on my honour as a soldier,that I am as innocent of having procured it as I am ignorant of how itcame about.
"I leave myself with confidence in your hands, gentlemen," he ended, andresumed his seat.
That he had favourably impressed the court was clear. Miss Armytagewhispered it to Lady O'Moy, exultation quivering in her whisper.
"He is safe!" And she added: "He was magnificent."
Lady O'Moy pressed her hand in return. "Thank God! Oh, thank God!" shemurmured under her breath.
"I do," said Miss Armytage.
There was silence, broken only by the rustle of the president's notesas he briefly looked them over as a preliminary to addressing the court.And then suddenly, grating harshly upon that silence, came the voice ofO'Moy.
"Might I suggest, Sir Harry, that before we hear you three of thewitnesses be recalled? They are Sergeant Flynn, Private Bates andMullins."
The president looked round in surprise, and Carruthers took advantage ofthe pause to interpose an objection.
"Is such a course regular, Sir Harry?" He too had become conscious atlast of Sir Terence's relentless hostility to the accused. "The courthas been given an opportunity of examining those witnesses, the accusedhas declined to call any on his own behalf, and the prosecution hasalready closed its case."
Sir Harry considered a moment. He had never been very clear upon mattersof procedure, which he looked upon as none of a soldier's real business.Instinctively in this difficulty he looked at Lord Wellington as iffor guidance; but his lordship's face told him absolutely nothing, theCommander-in-Chief remaining an impassive spectator. Then, whilst thepresident coughed and pondered, Major Swan came to the rescue.
"The court," said the judge-advocate, "is entitled at any time beforethe finding to call or recall any witnesses, provided that the prisoneris afforded an opportunity of answering anything further that may beelicited in re-examination of these witnesses."
"That is the rule," said Sir Terence, "and rightly so, for, as in thepresent instance, the prisoner's own statement may make it necessary."
The president gave way, thereby renewing Miss Armytage's terrors andshaking at last even the prisoner's calm.
Sergeant Flynn was the first of the witnesses recalled at Sir Terence'srequest, and it was Sir Terence who took up his re-examination.
"You said, I think, that you were standing in the guardroom doorway whenCaptain Tremayne passed you at twenty minutes to twelve on the night ofthe 28th?"
"Yes, sir. I had turned out upon hearing the curricle draw up. I hadcome to see who it was."
"Naturally. Well, now, did you observe which way Captain Tremaynewent?--whether he went along the passage leading to the garden or up thestairs to the offices?"
The sergeant considered for a moment, and Captain Tremayne becameconscious for the first time that morning that his pulses werethrobbing. At last his dreadful suspense came to an end.
"No, sir. Captain Tremayne turned the corner, and was out of my sight,seeing that I didn't go beyond the guardroom doorway."
Sir Terence's lips parted with a snap of impatience. "But you must haveheard," he insisted. "You must have heard his steps--whether they wentupstairs or straight on."
"I am afraid I didn't take notice, sir."
"But even without taking notice it seems impossible that you should nothave heard the direction of his steps. Steps going up stairs sound quitedifferently from steps walking along the level. Try to think."
The sergeant considered again. But the president interposed. Thetestiness which Sir Terence had been at no pains to conceal annoyed SirHarry, and this insistence offended his sense of fair play.
"The witness has already said that the didn't take notice. I am afraidit can serve no good purpose to compel him to strain his memory. Thecourt could hardly rely upon his answer after what he has said already."
"Very well," said Sir Terence curtly. "We will pass on. After the bodyof Count Samoval had been removed from the courtyard, did Mullins, mybutler, come to you?"
"Yes, Sir Terence."
"What was his mess
age? Please tell the court."
"He brought me a letter with instructions that it was to be forwardedfirst thing in the morning to the Commissary-General's office."
"Did he make any statement beyond that when he delivered that letter?"
The sergeant pondered a moment. "Only that he had been bringing it whenhe found Count Samoval's body."
"That is all I wish to ask, Sir Harry," O'Moy intimated, and lookedround at his fellow-members of that court as if to inquire whether theyhad drawn any inference from the sergeant's statements.
"Have you any questions to ask the witness, Captain Tremayne?" thepresident inquired.
"None, sir," replied the prisoner.
Came Private Bates next, and Sir Terence proceeded to question him..
"You said in your evidence that Captain Tremayne arrived at Monsantobetween half-past eleven and twenty minutes to twelve?"
"Yes, sir."
"You told us, I think, that you determined this by the fact that youcame on duty at eleven o'clock, and that it would be half-an-hour or alittle more after that when Captain Tremayne arrived?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is quite in agreement with the evidence of your sergeant. Now tellthe court where you were during the half-hour that followed--until youheard the guard being turned out by the sergeant."
"Pacing in front of quarters, sir."
"Did you notice the windows of the building at all during that time?"
"I can't say that I did, sir."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" echoed the private.
"Yes--why not? Don't repeat my words. How did it happen that you didn'tnotice the windows?"
"Because they were in darkness, sir."
O'Moy's eyes gleamed. "All of them?"
"Certainly, sir, all of them."
"You are quite certain of that?"
"Oh, quite certain, sir. If a light had shown from one of them Icouldn't have failed to notice it."
"That will do."
"Captain Tremayne--" began the president.
"I have no questions for the witness, sir," Tremayne announced.
Sir Harry's face expressed surprise. "After the statement he has justmade?" he exclaimed, and thereupon he again invited the prisoner, in avoice that was as grave as his countenance, to cross-examine he witness;he did more than invite--he seemed almost to plead. But Tremayne,preserving by a miracle his outward calm, for all that inwardly he wasfilled with despair and chagrin to see what a pit he had dug for himselfby his falsehood, declined to ask any questions.
Private Bates retired, and Mullins was recalled. A gloom seemed to havesettled now upon the court. A moment ago their way had seemed fairlyclear to its members, and they had been inwardly congratulatingthemselves that they were relieved from the grim necessity of passingsentence upon a brother officer esteemed by all who knew him. But now asubtle change had crept in. The statement drawn by Sir Terence from thesentry appeared flatly to contradict Captain Tremayne's own account ofhis movements on the night in question.
"You told the court," O'Moy addressed the witness Mullins, consultinghis notes as he did so, "that on the night on which Count Samoval methis death, I sent you at ten minutes past twelve to take a letter to thesergeant of the guard, an urgent letter which was to be forwarded to itsdestination first thing on the following morning. And it was in fact inthe course of going upon this errand that you discovered the prisonerkneeling beside the body of Count Samoval. This is correct, is it not?"
"It is, sir."
"Will you now inform the court to whom that letter was addressed?"
"It was addressed to the Commissary-General."
"You read the superscription?"
"I am not sure whether I did that, but I clearly remember, sir, that youtold me at the time that it was for the Commissary-General."
Sir Terence signified that he had no more to ask, and again thepresident invited the prisoner to question the witness, to receive againthe prisoner's unvarying refusal.
And now O'Moy rose in his place to announce that he had himself afurther statement to, make to the court, a statement which he had notconceived necessary until he had heard the prisoner's account of hismovements during the half-hour he had spent at Monsanto on the night ofthe duel.
"You have heard from Sergeant Flynn and my butler Mullins that theletter carried from me by the latter to the former on the night of the28th was a letter for the Commissary-General of an urgent character, tobe forwarded first thing in the morning. If the prisoner insists uponit, the Commissary-General himself may be brought before this court toconfirm my assertion that that communication concerned a complaint fromheadquarters on the subject of the tents supplied to the third divisionSir Thomas Picton's--at Celorico. The documents concerning thatcomplaint--that is to say, the documents upon which we are to presumethat the prisoner was at work during tine half-hour in question--were atthe time in my possession in my own private study and in another wing ofthe building altogether."
Sir Terence sat down amid a rustling stir that ran through the court,but was instantly summoned to his feet again by the president.
"A moment, Sir Terence. The prisoner will no doubt desire to questionyou on that statement." And he looked with serious eyes at CaptainTremayne.
"I have no questions for Sir Terence, sir," was his answer.
Indeed, what question could he have asked? The falsehoods he had utteredhad woven themselves into a rope about his neck, and he stood beforehis brother officers now in an agony of shame, a man discredited, as hebelieved.
"But no doubt you will desire the presence of the Commissary-General?"This was from Colonel Fletcher his own colonel and a man who esteemedhim--and it was asked in accents that were pleadingly insistent.
"What purpose could it serve, sir? Sir Terence's words are partlyconfirmed by the evidence he has just elicited from Sergeant Flynn andhis butler Mullins. Since he spent the night writing a letter to theCommissary, it is not to be doubted that the subject would be such as hestates, since from my own knowledge it was the most urgent matter inour hands. And, naturally, he would not have written without havingthe documents at his side. To summon the Commissary-General would beunnecessarily to waste the time of the court. It follows that I musthave been mistaken, and this I admit."
"But how could you be mistaken?" broke from the president.
"I realise your difficulty in crediting, it. But there it is. MistakenI was."
"Very well, sir." Sir Harry paused and then added "The court will beglad to hear you in answer to the further evidence adduced to refuteyour statement in your own defence."
"I have nothing further to say, sir," was Tremayne's answer.
"Nothing further?" The president seemed aghast. "Nothing, sir."
And now Colonel Fletcher leaned forward to exhort him. "CaptainTremayne," he said, "let me beg you to realise the serious position inwhich you are placed."
"I assure you, sir, that I realise it fully."
"Do you realise that the statements you have made to account for yourmovements during the half-hour that you were at Monsanto have beendisproved? You have heard Private Bates's evidence to the effect thatat the time when you say you were at work in the offices, those officesremained in darkness. And you have heard Sir Terence's statement thatthe documents upon which you claim to have been at work were at thetime in his own hands. Do you realise what inference the court will becompelled to draw from this?"
"The court must draw whatever inference it pleases," answered thecaptain without heat.
Sir Terence stirred. "Captain Tremayne," said he, "I wish to add my ownexhortation to that of your colonel! Your position has become extremelyperilous. If you are concealing anything that may extricate you fromit, let me enjoin you to take the court frankly and fully into yourconfidence."
The words in themselves were kindly, but through them ran a note ofbitterness, of cruel derision, that was faintly perceptible to Tremayneand to one or two others.
Lord Wellington'
s piercing eyes looked a moment at O'Moy, then turnedupon the prisoner. Suddenly he spoke, his voice as calm and level as hisglance.
"Captain Tremayne--if the president will permit me to address you inthe interests of truth and justice--you bear, to my knowledge, thereputation of an upright, honourable man. You are a man so unaccustomedto falsehood that when you adventure upon it, as you have obviously justdone, your performance is a clumsy one, its faults easily distinguished.That you are concealing something the court must have perceived. If youare not concealing something other than that Count Samoval fell byyour hand, let me enjoin you to speak out. If you are shielding anyone--perhaps the real perpetrator of this deed--let me assure you thatyour honour as a soldier demands, in the interests of truth and justice,that you should not continue silent."
Tremayne looked into the stern face of the great soldier, and his glancefell away. He made a little gesture of helplessness, then drew himselfstiffly up.
"I have nothing more to say."
"Then, Captain Tremayne," said the president, "the court will pass tothe consideration of its finding. And if you cannot account for thehalf-hour that you spent at Monsanto while Count Samoval was meeting hisdeath, I am afraid that, in view of all the other evidences against you,your position is likely to be one of extremest gravity.
"For the last time, sir, before I order your removal, let me add my ownto the exhortations already addressed to you, that you should speak. Ifstill you elect to remain silent, the court, I fear, will be unable todraw any conclusion but one from your attitude."
For a long moment Captain Tremayne stood there in tense, expectantsilence. Yet he was not considering; he was waiting. Lady O'Moy he knewto be in court, behind him. She had heard, even as he had heard, thathis fate hung perhaps upon whether Richard Butler's presence were to bebetrayed or not. Not for him to break faith with her. Let her decide.And, awaiting that decision, he stood there, silent, like a manconsidering. And then, because no woman's voice broke the silence toproclaim at once his innocence, and the alibi that must ensure hisacquittal, he spoke at last.
"I thank you, sir. Indeed, I am very grateful to the court for theconsideration it has shown me. I appreciate it deeply, but I havenothing more to say."
And then, when all seemed lost, a woman's voice rang out at last:
"But I have!"
Its sharp, almost strident note acted like an electric discharge uponthe court; but no member of the assembly was more deeply stricken thanCaptain Tremayne. For though the voice was a woman's, yet it was not thevoice for which he had been waiting.
In his excitement he turned, to see Miss Armytage standing there,straight and stiff, her white face stamped with purpose; and besideher, still seated, clutching her arm in an agony of fear, Lady O'Moy,murmuring for all to hear her:
"No, no, Sylvia. Be silent, for God's sake!"
But Sylvia had risen to speak, and speak she did, and though the wordsshe uttered were such as a virgin might wish to whisper with veiledcountenance and averted glance, yet her utterance of them was bold tothe point of defiance.
"I can tell you why Captain Tremayne is silent. I can tell you whom heshields."
"Oh God!" gasped Lady O'Moy, wondering through her anguish how Sylviacould have become possessed of her secret.
"Miss Armytage--I implore you!" cried Tremayne, forgetting where hestood, his voice shaking at last, his hand flung out to silence her.
And then the heavy voice of O'Moy crashed in:
"Let her speak. Let us have the truth--the truth!" And he smote thetable with his clenched fist.
"And you shall have it," answered Miss Armytage. "Captain Tremayne keepssilent to shield a woman--his mistress."
Sir Terence sucked in his breath with a whistling sound. Lady O'Moydesisted from her attempts to check the speaker and fell to staring ather in stony astonishment, whilst Tremayne was too overcome by thesame emotion to think of interrupting. The others preserved a watchful,unbroken silence.
"Captain Tremayne spent that half-hour at Monsanto in her room. He waswith her when he heard the cry that took him to the window. Thence hesaw the body in the courtyard, and in alarm went down at once--withoutconsidering the consequences to the woman. But because he has consideredthem since, he now keeps silent."
"Sir, sir," Captain Tremayne turned in wild appeal to the president,"this is not true." He conceived at once the terrible mistake that MissArmytage had made. She must have seen him climb down from Lady O'Moy'sbalcony, and she had come to the only possible, horrible conclusion."This lady is mistaken, I am ready to--"
"A moment, sir. You are interrupting," the president rebuked.
And then the voice of O'Moy on the note of terrible triumph soundedagain like a trumpet through the long room.
"Ah, but it is the truth at last. We have it now. Her name! Her name!"he shouted. "Who was this wanton?"
Miss Armytage's answer was as a bludgeon-stroke to his ferociousexultation.
"Myself. Captain Tremayne was with me."