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Feeling that I must for ever tread the earth a branded boy, -
person I mean, - or that I must clear up my honour, I demanded to
be tried by a court-martial. The colonel admitted my right to be
tried. Some difficulty was found in composing the court, on
account of the Emperor of France's aunt refusing to let him come
out. He was to be the president. Ere yet we had appointed a
substitute, he made his escape over the back-wall, and stood among
us, a free monarch.
The court was held on the grass by the pond. I recognised, in a
certain admiral among my judges, my deadliest foe. A cocoa-nut had
given rise to language that I could not brook; but confiding in my
innocence, and also in the knowledge that the President of the
United States (who sat next him) owed me a knife, I braced myself
for the ordeal.
It was a solemn spectacle, that court. Two executioners with
pinafores reversed led me in. Under the shade of an umbrella I
perceived my bride, supported by the bride of the pirate-colonel.
The president, having reproved a little female ensign for
tittering, on a matter of life or death, called upon me to plead,
'Coward or no coward, guilty or not guilty?' I pleaded in a firm
tone, 'No coward and not guilty.' (The little female ensign being
again reproved by the president for misconduct, mutinied, left the
court, and threw stones.)
My implacable enemy, the admiral, conducted the case against me.
The colonel's bride was called to prove that I had remained behind
the corner lamp-post during the engagement. I might have been
spared the anguish of my own bride's being also made a witness to
the same point, but the admiral knew where to wound me. Be still,
my soul, no matter. The colonel was then brought forward with his
evidence.
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