Cotton on Trial

Cotton felt miserable. Vickery understood that, thankfully, and while he didn't try to engage him in conversation, he did try to encourage the man.

It felt strange to be without the weight of his sword-bayonet on his hip, and he knew both it and his rifle were being looked after by other members of his Company.

Vickery walked with him to the tree marking the 62nd's headquarters. The wind ruffled his hair a little, and that felt strange too.

He wasn't sure what to expect and was glad of Vickery's presence. He didn't want to let him, or his Company down, and he didn't want to let Maggie down, and how he was to explain the events of the day without dragging her down with him, he really couldn't say.

It seemed strange to be convening a court martial in the open air, in the middle of a camp where others were preparing to eat and to sleep. But there was nowhere suitable for it to be held under cover, and one advantage was that it would be obvious to everyone - Rifleman or not - that discipline was the same whether it was a rifleman or a private charged.

He saw Vickery and the accused Cotton, and Lieutenant Waldegrave approaching with the young woman who he remembered from the market and his office back in Lisbon. Well, she had decided what to do, and it seemed not to have been a lucky choice. He was not really surprised to see Sharpe following Waldegrave, as the trial raised the question of rifles discipline, and their earlier agreement. His companion, a private of the 27th was less welcome

Maggie smiled encouragingly at Cotton. She was calm now - nervous, but not crying, no hysteria or foolishness. She saw Colonel Edrington and felt uneasy. She trusted that he was a reasonable man - he had seemed such when she spoke to him in Lisbon, a good man and sensible - but he was an officer and a member of the aristocracy. Would he believe the word of an ordinary rifleman against the arguments of a redcoat lieutenant?

He was a little surprised to see Private Williams, but felt grateful that he cared enough to come. He was more surprised to see Mister Sharpe, and couldn't imagine what brought him here. Cotton might be a Rifleman, but they weren't in the same regiment, and he had his own officer here anyway.

Edrington saw the girl smile across at the man, and then glance towards him, with doubt in her eyes. That was only to be expected. He was here to listen to the case against her man. And to punish him, if that was his verdict. He looked at Vickery and Waldegrave to confirm that they were in place, facing each other, and announced that the court martial was convened to hear the charge of theft against Rifleman Gabriel Cotton, of the 5th battalion of the 60th Regiment. "Theft is the taking of property with the intent of depriving the owner of the possession. That is the charge. The prosecution, Lieutenant Waldegrave will present evidence in support of this, while Captain Vickery has undetaken the defence. Rifleman Cotton. You are charged with the theft of a watch, the property of Captain Padstowe of the 50th Foot. How do you plead?"

He'd gone cold at hearing it actually put into words. Could he really put Maggie through listening to all this? No choice, now, she was here and it had started. And he was dreading hearing what the verdict would be - and they'd barely started yet.

"I...I didn't do it, sir."

Waldegrave had not expected the Rifleman to do anything other than to deny the charge. But he would soon learn what discipline meant in a proper regiment.

"The case against Rifleman Cotton is that this morning, 11th May, he took a watch from the baggage of Captain Vickery, for whom he was acting as a servant, with the intent of keeping that watch, which was not his property. And it is that simple, my lord. He found a watch, took it out to the bag, and did not intend to return it to its owner.

"My first witness is Margaret Evans." He stared at her for a moment and said "Go forward and take the Bible." He then stopped, and waited until someone produced a Bible and offered it to Evans.

Maggie hesitated for a moment, uncertain, and then held out her hands to take the Bible from the man holding it out to her.

Cotton looked at Maggie, trying to encourage her, to let her know that it was all right, he didn't blame her in any way.

Just tell 'em what happened he wanted to say. Just say it straight out what happened. You know I never intended to keep it, or anythin' like that.

He couldn't believe the officer had called his Maggie as his first witness. The bastard!

Man with Bible: "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes of course." Maggie did not quite understand the formalities of the procedings, but she understood truth well enough. "Rifleman Cotton didn't steal anything."

Waldegrave smirked at her. "This morning, you were with an Annie Lawson when I first spoke to you. Do you remember that? Lawson had a watch in her hand. Do you know where that watch came from?" That was of course important. He had not bothered to find Lawson. What she could say should be confirmed by Evans, since she had, after the initial lie, not denied her possession of the watch.

Well, that was true enough. Neither stole, nor intended to steal...

Maggie swallowed. "It were Captain Padstowe's watch, sir."

"And how did Lawson have it? Did you not have it in your pocket, from which it fell?"

He was really enjoying this, wasn't he? The bastard.

Just tell them. There's no point in denying that, not now.

And if it meant the triangle, he'd do his damnedest to see Maggie wasn't punished too.

She lowered her eyes and answered meekly. "Yes sir."

"Thank you. And how did the watch - Captain Padstowe's watch - come to be in your pocket?" She was going to tell the truth. Which would serve to convict her man. Waldegrave kept the expression on his face quite bland.

Cotton kept his eyes on Maggie, seeing the emotions chase across her face. The bastard was going to make her get him flogged. She'd never forgive herself, and he didn't care, the arrogant...

He took a breath and tried to let her know, without saying it, that whatever she said was all right.

Even if he ended up facing the lash, he was damned if she would.

Maggie frowned, wanting to dig in her heels, refusing to make it easy for Waldegrave. She knew what he wanted her to say, but she would not just hand it to him on a silver platter. She sighed when she finally answered, as if explaining to a child for the hundredth time with her patience wearing thin.

"On the night before, in camp, it was raining..."

Waldegrave smiled at her. He had heard this before, and he would let her have her say, provided she didn't take too long. It was not part of the case for theft, but at least it would not influence the Colonel, who would not be distracted by side-issues.

"It was raining, yes," he confirmed as if encouraging her.

"So I went to my bags to get a shawl, and some stockings and all. And I hear this voice behind me, and I'm scared, so I say 'Jed Palmer, is that you?' and - Jedediah Palmer is one of the riflemen, and I thought he was playing a joke like, only he says he was asleep. But anyway, I rushed back and went to sleep again." Even in the dark she could see a glazed look of indifference on the faces of her interlocutors, and a touch of impatience. Well, let them be impatient. She was not going to rush things.

She'd said she'd heard someone that night. And now she was on oath, too and had just repeated it. Only, wasn't he here for taking it out of the bag, rather than taking it from its actual owner?

He wasn't going to say anything; his turn would come soon enough.

Sir Arthur had been out taking a ride around the camp, accompanied by Captain Sanders. They had come up to where the 62nd had struck for the night, and was surprised to see a small gathering of men and officers around a tree. The General halted his horse, and squinted into the darkness. he recognised Edrington seated at a long table - seemingly presiding over whatever this was - along with Vickery, what looked like an ordinary rifleman of the 60th next to him, and... Sharpe.

Both shades of green on one side, red on the other, being heard by the Colonel in charge of them both. This did not bode well.

"Go and find out what's happening," he murmured to Sanders who had reigned in next to him. "Be discreet about it; dismount, and ask one of the spectators. On no account are you to disturb the proceedings."

Sanders dismounted, somewhat embarrassed to be handing the reigns of his horse to his General to hold, but did as he was told. Both officers were wearing their cloaks, and so to a degree the bright lace of Sanders' uniform was rendered far less obvious, especially now he was on foot.

The captain approached a private soldier of the 27th (unusual sight amongst a gathering of primarily 62nd) and stood next to him.

"Wuld you kindly inform me of what is taking place, private?" he murmured in a tone which suggested that he expected to be told whether the private wished to or not.

"So in the morning, Gabe and I - Rifleman Cotton there - well Gabe was getting a cloak for Mister - for Captain Vickery. He's Captain Vickery's batman." She indicated the captain with a helpful nod of her head as if she were explaining the matter to a child. "And he finds a watch in the bag, only it's not Captain Vickery's watch and Gabe's never seen it before, and he should know because he packs Captain Vickery's bags and all. Captain Vickery trusts him like that. To pack and unpack everything."

She paused and looked up to see the new arrival, mild curiosity in her eyes but nothing more.