Calthorpe sat down. The jury was whispering, but Belmore ignored them entirely, and looked straight ahead of him.
'I trust, Mr Calthorpe, that you are not suggesting this court lacks common sense. However, it seems to me that as Mr Richard Hilton, or General Matthew Warner, whichever he really is, has brought this case, and as his advocate is prepared to substantiate his claim, the least we can do is hear the evidence. Are you prepared to call your witnesses, Mr Barker?'
'I arn, your lordship. I call Captain James Morrison.'
The call was sent out to the witnesses' room. Morrison came in, slowly and uncertainly, blinked at the sea of faces, gave a nervous smile, and was shown to the stairs leading up to the witness box by the clerk. He took the oath in a low mumble.
'Your name is Captain James Morrison, and you are master of the brig
Green Knight,'
Barker remarked.
'Aye.'
'What did the witness say?' inquired the earl.
'He said yes, my lord, in a nautical fashion,' Barker explained.
'Ah,' said the earl, and made a note.
'And for how many years have you traded between England and the West Indies, Captain Morrison?'
'Longer than I can remember.'
'Well, sir, try to remember.'
'Oh, aye, well, thirty years for sure.'
'Thank you, Captain Morrison. Now, can you remember a voyage you made, in June and July of the year 1810?'
'Oh, aye, that I can.'
'Why can you remember it? We are speaking of some twenty years ago.'
'Ah, but it were what happened, you see.' 'Tell us.'
'Well, there were these two young fellows on board. Hilton, their name was. Anthony Hilton, and his brother Richard. Heirs to the Hilton estates, they were. And there was this quarrel, you see, with a gentleman named Lanken.' Morrison paused and looked around the crowded room.
'What was this quarrel about?'
'Ah, well, it were over a woman, to be sure. And Captain Lanken challenged Mr Richard Hilton to a duel. Well, then it were discovered that Mr Richard had malaria, so his brother fought in his place. Oh, no blood was shed. But a duel, on my ship. Why, it weren't something a man forgets.'
'Indeed not,' Barker agreed. 'And when did you see Mr Richard Hilton again?'
'Aye, well, not for a long time. He was a big planter, and me just a trading skipper. I heard of him, though. Then I heard how he had been lost at sea, and I was mighty sorry. He was a good man, that.'
'But when did you see him again?'
'Aye, well, Jamaica ain't the only West Indian island I trade with. I calls at Cap Haitien, that which used to be Cap Francois from time to time. Risky it is. Them niggers are unpredictable. But a man must try to earn himself a profit.'
'Go on, Captain Morrison.'
'Well, last year it was. I called at Cap Haitien, as usual, and the ship was invaded by these black fellows. Soldiers they was. Arrested me they did, on a false charge of smuggling, and hauled me before their general. Well, I can tell you, I thought I was for it. But this turned out to be a white man, General Warner.'
'You knew him?'
'Oh, no. Not me. But I'd heard of him. Well, who hadn't heard of Christophe's cavalry commander? Well, I went along. I didn't have no choice. And you could have knocked me over with a feather when this general claps me on the shoulder and says captain, don't you remember me?'
'And did you?'
'Well, not at first. But when he started to speak, why, I knew it had to be Richard Hilton.' 'Why?'
'Well, he remembered things that only Richard Hilton could.'
'Things about the voyage?'
'Oh, aye. Names, and what happened.'
'Captain Morrison, is Mr Richard Hilton, of Hilltop, the man you carried to Jamaica in 1810, seated in this court?'
Morrison affected to peer into the room. 'Oh, aye, there he is.'
'Where?'
Morrison pointed at Dick.
'You have no doubts at all about it, Captain Morrison?'
'Doubts? Why should I have doubts? That's Richard Hilton.'
'Thank you, Captain Morrison,' Barker said, and sat down.
Calthorpe took some minutes to stand up. He consulted his notes, rustled his papers, and only when Belmore had cleared his throat did he actually rise to his feet.
'Morrison,' he asked. 'Do you drink?'
'Eh?'
‘I
asked, do you drink?'
'I take a sip, from time to time.'
'Thank you. Do you tell tales?' 'Eh?'
'You are a seafaring man, who drinks. When you are . . . happy, in a bar of an evening, home from the sea, do you ever regale your companions with tales, of the sea?'
'Why
...
I suppose I do.'
'Have you ever told anyone of the events of that voyage in 1810, that voyage which was so eventful you can remember it today as if it was your last?'
'Why . . .' Morrison glanced at Dick. 'Maybe,'
Calthorpe appeared to consult his notes. 'You have testified that on landing in Cap Haitien, on the occasion of your last visit there, you were boarded by Negro soldiers and commanded to appear before the general. You thought you were for it. I quote. Would I be correct in interpreting that to mean you were afraid?'
'Afraid? Well, yes, I was afraid. Them niggers . . .'
'You have told us about them niggers, Morrison. Did you take a drink, before going ashore?'
'Eh? Well. . .'
'You are under oath, Morrison.' 'Well, yes, I did.'
'And on being taken ashore, under armed escort, you were confronted with a white man, a general, a very powerful man in that community, who greeted you by name, and when you showed surprise, this man recounted some events which you felt were of significance.'
'Aye. So he did. Eventually.'
Calthorpe frowned, for the first time. 'What do you mean?'
'Well, sir, when first we met, Mr Hilton didn't
want
me to recognize him. Or so it seemed to me. He wanted to know about Jamaica. It was only after I started telling him that he asked if I remembered him.'
'He
asked
if you remembered him.' Calthorpe smiled. 'And you were happy enough to do so.' He held up his hand as Morrison would have spoken again. 'I have only two more questions to ask of you, Morrison. And I recommend you answer them very carefully, lest a charge of perjury be brought against you. You have related that on that so well remembered voyage, there was to be a duel, between Richard Hilton and a Captain Lanken. But Richard Hilton could not fight, because of an attack of malaria, and his place was taken by his brother, Anthony. Now, Captain Morrison, is it not true to say that there
was
no attack of malaria? That the illness was a subterfuge to save Richard Hilton, because he had no knowledge of weapons, and because he was afraid of Captain Lanken?'
'Well, now,' Morrison said. 'Afraid? Well, now . . .'
'You are under oath, Morrison.'
'Well. . .' Morrison gave an apologetic glance at Dick. 'There was some talk, about how it might be a subterfuge.'
'Then tell us this, Morrison. Can you conceive of the man standing over there, the Claimant to the Hilton estates, being physically afraid of anyone? Or being ignorant of the use of weapons? This man, who fought with Christophe, and obtained a reputation as a most formidable soldier, this man, who came to Kingston, and upon being attacked by some ruffians, killed one, maimed another, and disarmed a third, all in a matter of seconds? Can you really suppose the shrinking coward of the
Green Knight
and the notorious Matthew Warner of Haiti can be one and the same man?'
'A man can change,' Morrison said. 'A man can be taught the use of weapons.'
'No man can change that much, Morrison. Now, my last question. Did Matthew Warner, when reminding you of your mutual past, tell you anything that he could not have learned, from hearsay, perhaps from Richard Hilton himself?'
Morrison frowned at his inquisitor. 'Why, of course not. He remembered what there was to be remembered, and there is an end to it.'
'Thank you, Morrison.' Calthorpe sat down, took a drink of water.
'You may step down, Captain Morrison,' the Earl of Belmore said. 'Mr Barker?'
Barker stood up, half started to turn to look at Dick, and then checked himself. But it needed no glance to convey the information that Morrison had been destroyed, as a witness. It was all or nothing now. 'I call the Reverend Joseph Strong,' Barker said.
Josh entered the courtroom, severely dressed in a black suit, wearing a dog-collar. He looked neither to left nor right, as he climbed the stairs to the box and took the oath. Calthorpe was consulting his notes; Tony leaned back and considered the ceiling. Obviously he would have forgotten what Josh looked like. He would not have forgotten the name, however.
Barker was on his feet. 'May it please your lordship, I would like to introduce this witness.'
'We know of the Reverend Strong,' Belmore pointed out.
Barker cleared his throat. 'Indeed, your lordship, the Reverend Strong is well known, and greatly respected, throughout the island. Yet he comes here today under a handicap, and I would beg the court's indulgence.'
'Handicap? Can the man not speak?'
'He can speak, your lordship. The nature of his handicap will become apparent when I commence examining the witness. Have I the court's indulgence?'
'Yes, yes, man, get on with it,' Belmore barked. He was also unhappy with the way the cross examination of Morrison had turned out.
'Thank you, my lord,' Barker said, and turned towards the witness box. 'Your name is Joseph Strong, and you are a parson of the Baptist Church?'
'That is correct,' Josh said, his voice slow and deep.
'And are you acquainted with the Claimant?'
'I am.'
'In what way?'
'I have known Mr Richard Hilton for twenty years. Since the day of his arrival in Jamaica.'
'And you have no doubt that the man you see behind me is Mr Richard Hilton?'
'None.'
'How can you be sure?'
'I am sure because when we first met, on his return to the island, although I did not identify myself, he recognized me immediately.'
'Thank you, Mr Strong.' The court was silent, and once again Barker half turned as if he would look at Dick, and then changed his mind. Clearly he was sorely tempted to leave matters as they were, and see if Calthorpe would press matters in his cross examination. But the risk was too great of alienating Belmore. Any confession had to come from this side. 'Now, Mr Strong, my learned friend will no doubt wish to point out, in cross examination, that when Mr Hilton first came to Jamaica there was no Reverend Strong preaching, and indeed that it is only in the last five years that your reputation as a man of God has become widespread.'
Calthorpe stood up. 'My lord, I would prefer to ask my own questions.'
'Mr Barker is supposing, Mr Calthorpe,' Belmore said.
'Thank you, your lordship,' Barker said. 'I would therefore like you to tell this court what you were doing when Mr Hilton arrived in Jamaica, in 1810, and how you came to know him so well.'
Josh hesitated for just a moment, then continued speaking in his slow, clear tone. 'I was a sl
ave, in 1810, and worked for Mr
Reynolds the lawyer.'
'Bless my soul,' Reynolds remarked, completely forgetting himself.
A rustle spread through the court, and Belmore banged his gavel before leaning forward. 'You were a slave, you say, Mr Strong? Of Mr Reynolds?'
'Yes, my lord.'
'And were manumitted?'
'No, my lord. I was sold, to Mr Richard Hilton, at his request.'
Tony sat up, and the murmur grew.
'Ah,' said the earl. 'And it was Mr Richard Hilton gave you your freedom. Yes, indeed, I understand. You would remember that.'
Josh took a deep breath. 'No, sir, your Excellency. Mr Richard made me his head man. That is why I remember him. He treated me as a friend. But when he disappeared, and Mr Anthony Hilton took over the plantation, he treated me too bad, your Excellency. So I ran away.'