Just Jane (21 page)

“All rise!” the court clerk called out, and Robert's words were drowned out as the crowd rose for the judges' entrance. In solemn single file, they strode in, five in all, and took their seats at an elevated table at the front of the lofty chamber. Then: “Come to order!” Straggling spectators rushed for seats. To Hugh's relief, Robert had disappeared.

He studied the judges. All senior officers, they were ramrod straight and stone faced. And to them, Hugh thought in despair, we must look for justice and mercy! Major Elliot sat with Captain Fleming and several aides at a table to the right, the defendant and his counsel to the left.

After two days in court, Hugh was still shocked at Simon's appearance. His shirt tattered, his unshaven face grimy, he slumped in his chair staring hollowly at the table before him. He appeared to hold no hope—and, indeed, there appeared to be none. Hugh had not said this to Jane, although he strongly suspected that she knew.

Just as the tiresome case review came to an end, the trial of Simon Cordwyn took an unexpected turn. A commanding voice rang out from the back of the room.

“May it please the court, I beg to be heard!” A multitude of startled eyes, Hugh's among them, turned to stare as a man came forward, stopping only when guards blocked his way.

The five judges peered at the intruder, frowning. “What is the meaning of this?” the chief judge demanded. “State your name, sir.

The reply came promptly. “I am Robert Prentice of this city, and of Rosewall Plantation.”

“Robert Prentice . . .” The chief judge pondered. “Your name is familiar to me, sir. Your reputation as a staunch Loyalist is well known. Do I take it that you wish to speak for the prosecution in this case?”

“With your permission, sir, I would speak for the defense.”

A buzz of astonishment swept through the crowded courtroom. Major Elliot leaped to his feet, shouting, “My Lords, I object! This is most irregular!” The judges conferred with each other in whispers. As dumbfounded as anyone else, Simon sat up straight, staring blankly at Robert.

Finally the chief judge turned to Robert with a stern frown. “This is, indeed, highly irregular, Mr. Prentice. However, you may address the court if you make it brief. And be warned—we will not view it kindly if you have interrupted these proceedings for a frivolous reason.”

Robert Prentice approached the judges' table with quiet dignity and a resolute look in his eye. The courtroom buzz quickly died as everyone in the crowded chamber waited breathlessly. And like a masterful orator, the unexpected witness held his listeners in thrall.

“Good sirs,” he began, “I should like to speak to you today about the people of this colony. I have lived among them for more than twenty years, and I know them well. There is bitterness and resentment among them, and it threatens the safety of us all. Time and again, men are brought before you and accused of treason. Some are guilty, but many are victims of hasty, overeager pursuit, false evidence, human error. The people's bitterness grows, and rebellion flames anew. In the present case we have a man who a short time ago commanded the respect and admiration of all who knew him in this city. Now he comes before you charged with offenses no one can prove, and which are contradicted by everything known about his character—”

“My Lords!” Major Elliot sprang from his seat with another objection. “I beg to remind the gentleman that it was
he
who provided the information that led us to place the prisoner under arrest!”

“A mistake I will regret to my dying day!” Robert shot back. “I merely mentioned to Captain Fleming that Mr.
Cordwyn was in Charlestown. I had no idea he would be arrested without proof of due cause, or brought to trial on such flimsy evidence!”

Sputtering, the prosecutor sat down, and Robert turned back to the judges. “Gentlemen, I do not presume to instruct you in the performance of your duties, or in your deliberations on the verdict you will deliver here. But I beseech you, listen to the people outside these walls. Most are loyal subjects of our king, but they decry as ‘tyranny' any hint of injustice done in the name of the Crown. Do not give them cause to use that word again. I have known Simon Cordwyn for many years. And from everything I know about him, I would stake my life that an innocent man is on trial here. That is all I have to say. Thank you for your attention.”

In the midst of confused silence, Robert turned on his heel and, with all eyes following him, strode rapidly out of the courtroom.

“Order!” bellowed the chief judge, and the pandemonium that had threatened to erupt in the courtroom subsided into an excited buzz. The judges then went into a huddle, whispering earnestly among themselves. The prisoner's mood had undergone a striking change. He conferred earnestly with his counsel, appearing to take an interest in the proceedings for the first time. Captain Richard Fleming's mood had also undergone a change. He now sat slumped at the prosecutor's table shaking his head, stunned at this incredible turn of events.

A recess then being declared for the day, Hugh raced home to Lydia and Jane, arriving out of breath from running, bursting with the news of the amazing scene he had witnessed. “Robert was magnificent! Who would have dreamed he would say such things! And that fool Fleming—he almost fainted!”

Jane was in a daze. “But what does it all mean?”

Hugh had a ready answer. “It means that Robert knows what a low-down thing he did, and he's trying to repair the damage. And that takes courage.”

“But you, too, spoke for Simon, as did others,” Lydia pointed out. “What difference can one more voice make?”

“All the difference in the world!” Hugh exclaimed. “Robert is known as a leading Loyalist in this area. His word carries tremendous weight—far more than mine ever could.” He turned to the shaking Jane. “The judges will deliver their verdict tomorrow morning. Only one more night to wait.”

The longest night of my life
, Jane thought.

 

Hugh was back in his seat in the courtroom gallery bright and early on the fourth day of the trial. In contrast to the dramatic scene that enlivened the day before, the closing session began on a dull, routine note. Once more came a detailed summary of arguments and evidence presented by both sides, with explanations of the laws each side thought should apply in the case. The chief judge then declared another recess—a few minutes of almost unbearable suspense that proved to be mercifully brief—after which he and his fellow judges returned to announce their decision.

The verdict: Guilty.

The sentence: Banishment to Nova Scotia, Canada, until hostilities with England had ceased.

The pandemonium that followed was beyond controlling. In seconds a stream of spectators poured out of the building, everyone loudly rejoicing or complaining. Outside, they gathered in knots, heatedly debating the matter.

It was not so much the verdict as the sentence that had spectators excited. Just as Saint Augustine, Florida, had been the topic of the crowd's curiosity several months before, the British province of Nova Scotia in the North Atlantic now became the subject of intense speculation. Some said it was a block of ice, frozen solid year-round. Others, who had heard that people actually lived there, claimed that it was a beautiful land of farmers and fishermen. But in that furious dispute, two points were agreed upon by all: No one had ever been publicly tried and convicted of treason and then received such a mild sentence—and this amazing outcome had to be due solely to the unexpected intervention of Mr. Robert Prentice.

Hugh was hurrying away from the courthouse to take the exciting news home, when Jane suddenly clutched at his arm. “Cousin Hugh, wait!”

“Jane! I thought you couldn't bear to come here.”

This time it was she who was breathless. “I couldn't bear to stay away! I've heard what people are saying. Banishment—and to
Canada
! Is that true?”

“It's true.” He grinned. “For such a serious charge, it's only a slap on the wrist.”

“Thank God!” she cried. “Do you think they'd let me see him before they take him away?”

“Not likely, but let's try around back. They usually take prisoners out that way.”

They made their way through the crowd but could get no closer than thirty or forty feet from a small rear door. Jane strained to see through the throng of heads in front of her. Finally, two guards emerged with the shackled, half-starved prisoner between them. Jane gasped at the sight of him.

“Mr. Cordwyn!” she called. Her voice was lost among the shouts of the noisy crowd. “Simon!” she cried, waving her arms. “I'm here!”

Now he jerked his head in her direction, eyes frantically searching. “Jane! Wait for me, I'll—” There was no time for more. The guards hustled him toward an enclosed prison wagon and shoved him into the back, out of sight.

In tears, Jane turned to Hugh. “I saw him,” she said. “I called to him, and he heard me. They wouldn't even let him speak, but I know he was trying to say, ‘Wait for me. I'll come back for you.' ”

“Then you heard all that really matters, didn't you?”
Hugh smiled gently and took her arm. “Come now, let's go home and tell Lydia.”

They threaded their way out of the crowd, never noticing Robert standing a short distance away. He watched them until they had disappeared from sight, then, head bowed, he walked off slowly in the opposite direction.

 

Early the next morning, Jane was shaken awake by Lydia. “Sorry to wake you, love. But you'll not believe who's come knocking at the door, insisting on seeing you. Of all people, that bloodthirsty monster Captain Fleming!”

Still half asleep, Jane winced. “Oh, no, please! Tell him to go away!”

“I did, but he won't. He says it's his last chance to see you before he sails for England tomorrow.”

“Really!” Jane blinked herself awake. “All right,” she sighed. “Tell him I'll be there shortly, would you?”

 

A few minutes later, Jane found herself strolling along the Charlestown seawall with the man who had proven himself to be Simon's worst enemy. “So you're sailing for England tomorrow,” she remarked, unable to think of anything else to say. “Why so suddenly?”

“Who knows?” he replied glumly. “Perhaps it's my commander's way of punishing me for my failing to—But I'm a soldier, I can only follow orders.”

They stopped and gazed out over the harbor.

“It's amazing, isn't it?” he mused. “How complicated life can be?”

She smiled faintly but did not look at him. “Very true, Richard.”

He drew a deep breath, then began again. “Before I go, Jane, there are two very important things I want to say to you.”

“If one is to justify your actions against Mr. Cordwyn, you needn't bother. You were doing your duty as an officer, I understand that.”

“Good, thank you. Then I'll go on to the second one. From the first time I ever saw you—remember, that day at Rosewall? Good Lord, I actually mistook you for a servant! I've always held in my heart the hope that one day I might take you home to England as my bride.”

Jane finally looked at him, but he could read nothing in her empty gaze. “I speak boldly because I must do so now, or never,” he went on. “I always thought my chief rival was young Ainsley. But now I'm told it was none other than that schoolmaster! I must say, I resist believing that.”

“Nevertheless, it's true, Richard. And it's not going to change.”

“Jane, I appeal desperately to your good sense. How well do you know this Cordwyn? Do you really think you'll ever see the scoundrel again?”

“Captain Fleming,” Jane said icily, “I do not require your instruction in this matter.”

“Please, hear me out. Think of who you are—Lady Jane Prentice. That's
Lady
Jane Prentice. As my wife you'd also be a member of the distinguished Fleming family, with the most devoted husband you could ever desire. Give me your pledge, and I'll return within the year and take you home to England. And it
is
your home, Jane.”

Jane's gaze drifted out to the distant horizon. “I often think of England,” she said softly. “I loved the green hills and country lanes I knew as a child. They'll always be a part of me.” As she turned to face him, Richard saw a light in her eyes he had never seen before. “I wish you well, Richard, truly,” she said. “But now we must say good-bye. Because, you see, I'm doing exactly what you urged me to do—thinking of who I am. I wish I could explain it better. All I can tell you is . . . I'm an American now.”

And before the flabbergasted Richard could recover his power of speech, she had turned and walked away.

 

Jane was surprised, too—both at what she had said, and at how right it had felt. She knew she would always love her native land and think with deep affection of the good people and beautiful places she had known there as a child. Something she had once read in a Shakespeare play suddenly came to mind: “Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.” But it was all far away now, lost in faded memories that could never be relived.

“I'm an American now.” She said it again, and liked the sound of it.

Her steps quickened by newfound self-knowledge, she hurried home to help Lydia get breakfast. It was a new day, and life goes on.

 

 

 

 

He arrived in the biting cold of winter, half starved and nearly frozen, at La Poissonnière—the Fish Kettle—the only public house in the tiny village of Mavillette. It was his good fortune that its owner, the stout, gray-haired Madame Duveau, was the first person he encountered. She listened to his story of banishment from the American colonies, gave him a steaming bowl of fish chowder, and then summoned prominent citizens of the community to come at once. Madame Duveau had an idea.