27 May; Pursuing a prankster

When Pye made no answer, and seemed as if he was going to remain quiet on the subject of his own defense, Matthew answered the Rifle officer's question himself. "I should think so."

He snapped his fingers at Lavinia, who was still lying belly-up at Cotton's feet, in the hopes that the Rifleman would return his attentions to her, and the small dog rolled over and came padding towards him. Matthew crouched down on his heels to pat her, and felt her wet tongue against his fingers in response.

"It's possible, aye, sir," Burr answered. He did not add his own opinion that, in the circumstances, the most reasonable explanation was the one he had struck upon.

Pye was sleepy. Unlike his claim he hadn't slept all that long, not an even an hour since the event. It was likely to be an early time to wake the next day, if he meant to go anywhere, if he was permitted. Even so, he could barely stifle a yawn.

He should've been alert and afraid. But, he felt much at ease. They couldn't pin it on him, Burr could not. What did he have? Nothing. A tar stain? A wee bit of it too. But that was it. Mud could come from anywhere. Still he was perhaps better to keep himself from appearing overconfident. That too could draw the wrong type of attention.

"Couldn't he have done it to 'isself?"

It was possible that he had, but even Vickery couldn't see why a man would cover himself in tar and feathers. Especially when he was under the care of the surgeon having received what was, by all accounts, quite a painful wound in rather a sensitive place.

"Was he absolutely certain that it was a Rifleman? He could possibly have been mistaken, in the dark and the confusion of what had been done to him," Vickery said.

"The fella was fair plain it was a Rifleman," Burr replied.

That was a lie. The provost could not have seen a rifleman, because the provost was fast asleep when the said rifleman came. He was just as fast asleep when he left. So claiming he had seen or that it was a rifleman, was making an assumption, albeit correct.

"Sergeant.." He began, very subtly. ".. if 'e was asleep how could 'e have seen who it was. That is, if 'e really hadn't done it ter 'isself?"

"So you are telling me that a man was awake enough to identify his assailant yet did not call out or otherwise try to alert anybody as to what was taking place?"

Vickery could not believe that, not for a moment.

Burr shrugged. "Those was his words, sir."

"Like another'un said, That Newbury's done it.. sure n' 'ell... last time, even when he was jus' wrong." Pye spoke, his eyes on the sergeant. "Who's to say this isn't t' same, sergeant. " After all another of the provosts had been pushed and claimed Newbury pushed them. That they saw him, that they were certain. It had to be Newbury even if his leg on its own proved that he could not have been. Not really, not as certain.

Vickery's eyebrow went up, invisible in the darkness. "Tarred and feathered without making a single sound of protest or trying to stop whoever it was who was treating him so, and didn't make a sound until his attacker was away so that e would not even be caught in the act? I find that hard to believe, Sergeant."

"Sergeant," Blackwood said, having been thoughtfully silent 'til now. "Would you say that the provost had, until he was roused, been under the influence of laudanum?"

Burr considered this and placidly replied "Aye, sir, that's sense."

"Indeed. Perhaps, then, his statement is not as accurate as before, in that light."

"He had just been involved in an altercation with a couple of my men, and been wounded in the tussle," Vickery added thoughtfully. "It seems likely he thought he was back there."

Pye was quiet this time. It wasn't that he ought to have spoken before, or expected that his words were heeded. But at that moment just, he did not need to worry about it either. If the conversation went in the right direction he would be left to be found innocent.

Perfectly innocent without a speck of dirt on his person. He kept the smile from his face. Perhaps the only thing that bothered him, is to know that he would have been lying to Vickery. He did not like the idea of betraying his captain in such a manner, though perhaps a clean white lie could pass without anyone ever knowing what really happened. Nobody was harmed by it, much.

"Which makes it reasonable to believe he did not, in fact, know how his attacker was and was simply drawing on his own half-aware assumptions." Blackwood glanced at the sack in Burr's hand and added, "The evidence you have gathered depends upon that flimsy testimony for its validation, Sergeant. You have done well but I believe the culprit in this instance may never be known for sure."

He could not believe his luck. It wasn't yet time to celebrate of course. But the way the officers and sergeant spoke, the possibility of getting in trouble diminished by the minute. The laudanum made any testimony of that man, along with his state of sleep, something of a lie. Even if it was true, and he was spot on, on who'd done it, nobody could exactly prove it. Not even with the tar on his hands.

He relaxed somewhat. Nobody was blamed, and nobody would pay for it. While for Newbury's assault, the witnesses could testify perfectly. The night could not be better yet.

A lantern bobbed toward them, carried by Mister Todd, the surgeon.

"Captain Vickery, I believe?" He asked. "Ah. I had thought you might be close by. You have clearly been made aware of this untidy incident, it seems."

Vickery turned as his name was spoken. "Yes? Oh, good evening, Doctor. Yes. We were just bringing things to a conclusion, I believe, unless you think there is something I am unaware of?" He couldn't think why the surgeon might be coming to find him, unless to report that Newbury had taken a sudden turn for the worse.

"Indeed. The provost fellow from this afternoon has been most insistently claiming his assailant to be a Rifleman. He is properly tended to, of course, but he will no doubt need an officer to silence him more effectively." Todd's voice reflected his quiet irritated frustration at the whole affair.

Dear God. Vickery pinched the bridge of his nose. "Very well, I'll come." He looked around the gathered men. "Unless there is anything requiring my attention here, still?"

Blackwood shook his head. "No. I shall see matters here suitably resolved. That sack, if you please, Sergeant." When Burr had handed the sack over, the captain added, "You may go and place additional sentries around the surgeon's tent."

"Yes sir." To his credit, Burr showed no sign of any feeling at the apparent dismissal of his case against the young Rifleman. He saluted and moved off into the darkness, with the fellow from the Third Guards following close behind.

"Thank you, Captain."

He couldn't fault the Sergeant for doing his duty as he saw it, and he would have to let Captain Blackwood know.

"All right, then," he said, looking around. "Thank you for your help as well, sir." He was suddenly aware that he did not know the cavalryman's name. He looked to the other men still hanging around. "There is nothing else to see here. Pye, Cotton, may I have a word with you?"

Pye watched Blackwood with no small amount of satisfaction. This was it. He was safe. The accusations dropped. He looked somewhat startled when Vickery told them that he should have a word with them, but dismissed it as a possible request to keep Newbury safe, and safer than they did up till then.

He nodded sharply. "Sir?"

He waited until everyone else had dispersed before turning to his newest rifleman. "Pye. Did you, or did you not, actually do to that provost what Sergeant Burr said you did?"

Pye wished to lie. Wanted to lie. It would have been easy if it had been anyone but Vickery, that was the man inquiring about it. But this was an officer, a man he was loyal to and swore to serve, the man who had allowed him into the regiment and henceforth was responsible for his present and future being. It was Vickery, and as easy as it would have been to lie to any officer in the damn army, it was to this man that Pye was struggling to say, what was untrue but safe.

He dropped his gaze. He was so close to being left without accusation. He could lie this time, couldn't he? One white lie and they would be done with it. Everybody else believed it, Vickery had believed it. He bit his lip. The temptation was strong. A damn nuisance though was the feeling that he should tell the truth. That by not doing so, he would betray the officer and betray his trust and ..frankly act as a thankless child.

"..Sir, I..." He frowned. Sure, he would condemn himself now. "...I did."

Vickery nodded. "I thought you had. The same way you pushed a provost into the river without thinking of the consequences." He paused, thinking. "Are you aware that I intend to bring those provosts to a court martial for their attack on Newbury, which has set back his return to duty by a week at the very least?"